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4 


RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS 

OF  ALBANY, 

/ram  1800  to  1808  : 

WITH  SOME  ADDITIONAL  MATTER. 

SECOND  EDITION. 


ALBANY: 

PRINTED  BY  CHARLES  VAN  BENTHUYSEN. 

*1850. 


[We  take  the  liberty  to  insert,  by  the  way  of  preface  to  this  second  edition,  the  following 
Letter  from  the  Author.] 

TO  THE  PUBLISHER: 

Agreeably  to  your  request,  though  not  without  some  misgivings,  I 
send  you,  herewith,  a  few  additional  pages,  of  “  Random  Recollections.” 
It  would  be  easy  to  till  a  volume  with  such  scraps  as  these;  but  to  do 
justice  to  the  subject,  would  require  more  time  than  I  can  novj  conveniently 
spare.  The  ground  is  to  be  carefully  surveyed,  prior  to  any  act  of  occu¬ 
pation.  There  are  many  choice  anecdotes  that  cannot  yet  be  told;  many 
amusing  scenes  that  cannot,  with  propriety,  be  described;  and  a  long  list 
of  original  characters,  that  it  would,  even  at  this  distant  date,  be  prema¬ 
ture  to  sketch.  Still,  there  are  materials  enough  within  the  rule  of  right, 
to  satisfy  all  reasonable  curiosity ;  some  little  time,  however,  is  indispen¬ 
sable  to  their  collection  and  judicious  arrangement  for  exhibition.  But, 
the  novelty  of  the  thing,  I  apprehend,  has,  in  some  measure,  worn  off, 
and  unless  the  future  recollections  should  be  of  a  better  quality  than  those 
I  now  send  you,  it  would  be  as  useless  to  continue  the  work,  as  it  would  be 
to  re-publish  the  original  copy  without  additions. 

To  the  handsome  style  in  which  the  thing  was  printed;  to  the  liberality 
and  laudatory  tone  of  your  city  press,  and  to  the  good  nature  of  the  citi¬ 
zens  of  Albany,  I  attribute  the  favorable  reception  and  ready  sale  of  the 
first  edition.  But,  it  should  be  remembered,  that  nothing  is  new  but  once, 
that  liberality  and  good  nature  may  be  over -taxed;  and  that  the  “recol¬ 
lections,”  being  local  in  their  character  and  limited  in  their  range,  can 
excite  little  or  no  interest  beyond  the  confines  of  your  city.  But  the  risk 
and  expense  of  publication  are  yours,  and  if  you  really  think  it  worth 
while  to  try  the  town  with  another  edition,  the  few  scraps  I  send  you 
may,  perhaps,  authorize  the  printer’s  d — 1  to  insert  in  the  title  page,  the 
catching  phrase,  “with  additions;”  and  to  strengthen  this  important 
announcement,  I  place  at  your  disposal  an  entire  new  batch,  (written 
some  two  years  since,)  entitled  “  recollections  of  Hudson.”  These, 
you  may  publish  separately,  or  together  with  their  Albany  relatives,  (or 
not  at  all,)  as  you  may  think  best.  I  have  no  wish  other  than  that  you 
should  not  lose  money  by  the  idle  sketchings  of  my  pen. 

Your  friend  and  ob’t  serv’t, 

IGNATIUS  JONES. 

JONESBURGH,  JANUARY,  1850. 


RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS. 


The  election  of  Mr.  Jefferson  to  the  presiden¬ 
cy,  produced  a  new  era  in  the  political  history  of 
men  and  things  throughout  the  United  States. 
So  great  was  the  change,  and  so  sudden  the  turn 
of  the  executive  wheel,  that  the  event  was  felt 
through  all  the  ramifications  of  society,  and  the 
period  became  as  memorable  as  that  of  the  birth 
of  the  nation.  Many,  even  at  the  present  day, 
refer  to  it  in  their  computations  of  time,  as  to 
one  of  those  fixed  periods,  which  are  alike  fa¬ 
miliar  to  the  learned  and  the  unlearned.  It  is, 
indeed,  one  of  those  chronological  meridians, 
from  which  we  calculate  the  degrees  of  time, 
advancing  or  receding  as  the  case  may  he. 
Thus,  instead  of  saying,  “in  the  year  1801,”  or 
“at  the  beginning  of  the  nineteenth  century,” 
we  say,  “at  the  period  of  Mr.  Jefferson’s  elec¬ 
tion.”  Either  phrase  sufficiently  designates  the 
time  referred  to:  the  choice  is,  of  course,  op- 


4  RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS. 

tional,  and  the  mode  of  expression  a  mere  mat¬ 
ter  of  taste. 

In  commencing  these  reminiscences,  I  prefer 
to  say  that  my  first  visit  to  Albany  was  just  before 
the  election  of  Mr.  Jefferson,  or  the  Great  Apostle 
as  he  is  sometimes  called.  Not  that  the  visit  had 
any  thing  to  do,  either  with  the  election  of  Mr. 
Jefferson  or  the  fortunes  of  his  followers,  hut 
because  it  was  an  epoch  in  my  own  personal 
history,  as  the  election  of  Mr.  Jefferson  was,  in 
the  history  of  the  country. 

I  had  then  just  launched  my  “  light  untimber¬ 
ed  bark”  upon  the  ocean  of  life ;  with  no  guide 
hut  providence,  and  with  no  hand  but  my  own 
to  direct  its  course.  Never  shall  I  forget  the 
deep  feeling  of  loneliness  that  came  over  me 
when  the  receding  headlands  of  my  native  hay 
disappeared  in  the  distance,  and  I  found  myself, 
for  the  first  time  in  my  life,  alone  on  the  waters. 

It  was  at  the  age  of  eighteen,  and  in  the 
autumn  of  the  year  eighteen  hundred,  that  I  first 
set  my  foot  within  the  precincts  of  the  ancient 
and  far-famed  city  of  Albany.  It  is  true,  I  had 
passed  through  the  city  some  ten  or  twelve  years 
before,  hut  ’twas  on  a  rainy  day,  and  in  a  covered 
wagon;  and  as  the  only  glimpse  I  had  of  the 
town,  was  obtained  through  a  hole  in  the  can- 


RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS.  5 

vas,  I  set  it  down  as  nothing,  since,  in  reality, 
it  amounted  to  nothing. 

I  am,  however,  well  aware  that  an  intelligent, 
sharp-sighted  English  traveller,  such  for  instance, 
as  Fearon,  Hall,  or  Marryat  would  have  seen, 
even  through  a  smaller  aperture,  and  under  less 
favorable  circumstances,  enough  to  have  enabled 
him  to  have  given  you,  not  only  the  exact  topo¬ 
graphy  of  the  town  and  its  localities,  but  a  full 
and  accurate  account  of  its  different  religious 
denominations,  the  state  of  its  society,  the  num¬ 
ber  of  its  slaves,  and  the  character  of  its  inns ; 
together  with  many  sage  reflections  upon  the  de¬ 
moralizing  tendency  of  republican  governments ! 

But  this  faculty  of  taking  in  all  things  at  a 
single  glance ;  this  ability  to  see  more  than  is  to 
be  seen,  is  one  of  the  many  advantages  which 
the  English  traveller  possesses  over  all  others, 
and  which  in  fact  distinguishes  him  from  the 
traveller  of  every  other  country  on  the  face  of 
the  globe  —  the  land  of  Munchausen  not  excepted! 
I  mention  these  things  merely  to  satisfy  the 
reader  that  I  might  have  made  something  out  of 
the  affair  of  the  covered  wagon ,  had  I  been  so 
disposed.  But  ’tis  not  my  intention,  nor  was  it 
when  I  commenced  these  reminiscences,  to  draw 
upon  my  imagination  for  a  single  fact.  I  have 


6  RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS. 

materials  in  abundance,  and  cannot,  therefore, 
be  tempted  to  go  out  of  my  way  to  recollect  inci¬ 
dents  which  never  happened,  or  to  describe  things 
which  I  never  saw. 

The  city  of  Albany,  in  1800,  though  the  capital 
of  the  State,  and  occupying  a  commanding  po¬ 
sition,  was,  nevertheless,  in  point  of  size,  com¬ 
mercial  importance,  and  architectural  dignity, 
but  a  third  or  fourth  rate  town.  It  was  not,  in 
some  respects,  what  it  might  have  been ;  but  it 
was,  in  all  respects,  unlike  what  it  now  is.  Its 
population  could  not,  I  think,  have  exceeded 
some  seven  or  eight  thousand.  I  know  not  what 
the  statistics  may  say,  nor  is  it  material,  for  no 
man  of  sense  puts  the  least  faith  in  documents 
compiled  by  politicians,  or  published  by  authority. 
Most  of  Uncle  Sam’s  figurers,  particularly  those 
that  belong  to  the  Treasury  Department,  figure 
frequently  in  the  dark,  and  always  at  random. 
With  them,  the  addition  or  omission  of  a  cypher 
or  two  is,  it  would  seem,  of  but  little  conse¬ 
quence.  Hence  their  statistics,  whether  elabo¬ 
rated  by  the  imposing  genius  of  a  Woodbury  or 
a  Walker,  go  for  nothing  with  me.  But  to  the 
subject. 

Albany  has  probably  undergone  a  greater 
change,  not  only  in  its  physical  aspect,  but  in 


RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS.  7 

the  habits  and  character  of  its  population,  than 
any  other  city  in  the  United  States.  It  was, 
even  in  1800  an  old  town,  (with  one  exception, 
I  believe,  the  oldest  in  the  country,)  hut  the  face 
of  nature  in  and  around  it  had  been  but  little 
disturbed.  Old  as  it  was,  it  still  retained  its 
primitive  aspect,  and  still  stood  in  all  its  original 
simplicity ;  maintaining  its  quaint  and  quiescent 
character,  unchanged,  unmodified,  unimproved: 
still  pertinaciously  adhering,  in  all  its  walks,  to 
the  old  track  and  the  old  form. 

The  rude  hand  of  innovation,  however,  was 
then  just  beginning  to  he  felt ;  and  slight  as  was 
the  touch,  it  was  felt  as  an  injury,  or  resented  as 
an  insult. 

Nothing  could  he  more  unique  or  picturesque 
to  the  eye,  than  Albany  in  its  primitive  days. 
Even  at  the  period  above  mentioned,  it  struck  me 
as  peculiarly  naive  and  beautiful.  All  was  an¬ 
tique,  clean  and  quiet.  There  was  no  noise,  no 
hurry,  no  confusion.  There  was  no  putting  up, 
nor  pulling  down ;  no  ill-looking  excavations,  no 
leveling  of  hills,  no  filling  up  of  valleys :  in  short, 
none  of  those  villainous  improvements,  which 
disfigure  the  face  of  nature,  and  exhibit  the 
restless  spirit  of  the  Anglo-Saxon  race.  The 
stinted  pines  still  covered  the  hills  to  the  very 


8  RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS. 

edge  of  the  city,  and  the  ravines  and  valleys  were 
clothed  with  evergreens,  intermixed  with  briars, 
and  spangled  with  the  wild  rose. 

The  margin  of  the  river,  with  the  exception  of 
an  opening  at  the  foot  of  State-street,  extending 
down  to  the  ferry,  was  overhung  with  willows, 
and  shaded  by  the  wide  spreading  elm.  The 
little  islands  below  the  town  were  feathered  with 
foliage  down  to  the  very  water’s  edge,  and 
bordered  with  stately  trees,  whose  forms  were 
mirrored  in  the  stream  below.  As  far  as  the  eye 
could  extend,  up  and  down  the  river,  all  remained 
comparatively  wild  and  beautiful,  while  the  city 
itself  was  a  curiosity;  nay,  a  perfect  jewel  of 
antiquity,  particularly  to  the  eye  of  one  who  had 
been  accustomed  to  the  “  white  house,  green 
door,  and  brass  knocker,”  of  the  towns  and  vil¬ 
lages  of  New-England.  Nothing,  indeed,  could 
be  more  picturesque  than  the  view  of  North  Pearl- 
street,  from  the  old  elm  at  Webster’s  corner,  up  to 
the  new  two-steepled  church.  Pearl-street,  it 
must  be  remembered,  was,  in  those  days,  the 
west  end  of  the  town ;  for  there  the  town  ended, 
and  there  resided  some  of  the  most  aristocratic 
of  the  ancient  burghers.  There,  a  little  after  sun¬ 
rise,  in  a  mild  spring  morning,  might  be  seen,  sit¬ 
ting  by  the  side  of  their  doors,  the  ancient  and 


RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS.  9 

venerable  mynheers,  with  their  little  sharp  cock¬ 
ed  hats,  or  red-ringed  worsted  caps,  (as  the  case 
might  be,)  drawn  tight  over  their  heads.  There 
they  sat,  like  monuments  of  a  former  age,  still 
lingering  on  the  verge  of  time;  or  like  mile¬ 
stones  upon  a  turnpike  road,  solus  in  solo !  or,  in 
simple  English,  zmlike  any  thing  I  had  ever  seen 
before.  But  there  they  sat,  smoking  their  pipes 
in  that  dignified  silence,  and  with  that  phleg¬ 
matic  gravity,  which  would  have  done  honor  to 
Sir  Walter  Van  Twiller,  or  even  to  PufFendorf 
himself.  The  whole  line  of  the  street,  on  either 
side,  was  dotted  by  the  little  clouds  of  smoke, 
that,  issuing  from  their  pipes,  and,  curling  round 
their  noddles,  rose  slowly  up  the  antique  gables, 
and  mingled  with  the  morning  air ;  giving  beauty 
to  the  scene,  and  adding  an  air  of  life  to  the 
picture.  But  the  great  charm  was  in  the  novelty 
of  the  thing.  I  had  seen  a  dutch  house  before, 
but  never  till  then  had  I  seen  a  row  of  dutchmen, 
smoking  in  a  dutch  city. 

Albany  was  indeed  dutch,  in  all  its  moods  and 
tenses;  thoroughly  and  inveterately  dutch.  The 
buildings  were  dutch — dutch  in  style,  in  position, 
attitude  and  aspect.  The  people  were  dutch,  the 
horses  were  dutch,  and  even  the  dogs  were  dutch. 
If  any  confirmation  were  wanting,  as  to  the  origin 

B 


10  RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS. 

and  character  of  the  place,  it  might  be  found  in 
the  old  dutch  church,  which  was  itself  always  to 
be  found  in  the  middle  of  State-street,  looking 
as  if  it  had  been  wheeled  out  of  line  by  the 
giants  of  old,  and  there  left;  or  had  dropped  down 
from  the  clouds  in  a  dark  night,  and  had  stuck 
fast  where  it  fell. 

All  the  old  buildings  in  the  city— and  they 
constituted  a  large  majority' — were  but  one  story 
high,  with  sharp  peaked-roofs,  surmounted  by  a 
rooster ,  vulgarly  called  a  weathercock.  Every 
house,  having  any  pretensions  to  dignity,  was 
placed  with  its  gable  end  to  the  street,  and  Was 
ornamented  with  huge  iron  numericals,  announc¬ 
ing  the  date  of  its  erection;  while  from  its  eaves 
long  wooden  gutters,  or  spouts,  projected  in  front 
some  six  or  seven  feet,  so  as  to  discharge  the 
water  from  the  roof,  when  it  rained,  directly  over 
the  centre  of  the  sidewalks.  This  was  probably 
contrived  for  the  benefit  of  those  who  were 
compelled  to  be  out  in  wet  weather,  as  it  fur¬ 
nished  them  with  an  extra  shower-bath  free  of 
expense. 

But  the  destined  hour  was  drawing  near.  The 
Yankees  were  creeping  in.  Every  day  added  to 
their  number ;  and  the  unhallowed  hand  of  inno¬ 
vation  was  seen  pointing  its  impertinent  finger 


RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS.  11 

at  the  cherished  habits  and  venerated  customs  of 
the  ancient  burghers.  These  meddling  eastern 
Saxons  at  length  obtained  a  majority  in  the  city 
councils ;  and  then  came  an  order,  with  a  handsaw, 
to  “cut  off  those  spouts.”  Nothing  could  exceed 
the  consternation  of  the  aforesaid  burghers,  upon 
the  announcement  of  this  order.  Had  it  been  a 
decree  abolishing  their  mother  tongue,  it  could 
hardly  have  excited  greater  astonishment,  or 
greater  indignation.  “What!”  said  they,  “are 
our  own  spouts,  then,  to  be  measured  and  gradu¬ 
ated  by  a  corporation  standard !  Are  they  to  he 
cut  off  or  fore-shortened,  without  our  knowledge 
or  consent!”  But  the  Dutch  still  retained  the 
obstinacy,  if  not  the  valor  of  their  ancestors. 
They  rallied  their  forces,  and  at  the  next  election, 
the  principal  author  of  the  obnoxious  order  (my 
old  friend  Elkanah  Watson,)  was  elected  a  con¬ 
stable  of  the  ward  in  which  he  lived !  This  done, 
they  went  to  sleep  again ;  and  before  they  awoke, 
new  swarms  had  arrived,  and  a  complete  and 
thorough  revolution  had  taken  place.  The  Yan¬ 
kees  were  in  possession  of  the  city !  and  the  fate 
of  the  Dutch  was  sealed. 

The  old  families,  however,  still  claimed  the 
lead  in  all  matters  relating  to  good  society.  The 
city  assemblies  were  still  under  their  control,  as 


12 


RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS. 


well  in  regard  to  time  and  place,  as  in  the  power 
of  admission  and  exclusion.  In  the  exercise  of 
this  prerogative,  a  little  jealousy  of  the  Yankees 
was  occasionally  manifested.  The  difficulty  was, 
to  know  who  icas  who ;  to  distinguish  between 
those  that  were  entitled  to  admission,  and  those 
that  were  not.  Mere  respectability  was  not  of 
itself  sufficient ;  nor  was  wealth  to  be  considered 
as  a  certain  passport.  It  was  necessary  that  there 
should  be  something  of  rank,  of  family,  or  of 
fashion,  to  entitle  a  new  comer  to  a  seat  among 
the  notables.  These  matters,  however,  were,  as 
a  matter  of  course,  left  to  the  younger  branches 
of  the  ancient  aristocracy,  to  regulate  as  they  saw 
fit. 

Now  it  happened,  that  into  this  ancient  and 
somewhat  exclusive  circle  of  good  society,  had 
slid  many  families,  with  their  twigs  and  branches, 
who  had  in  reality  none  of  the  rights  and  claims 
of  the  genuine  Knickerbockers;  and  who  were, 
as  far  as  antiquity  was  concerned,  mere  squatters; 
yet  they  were  found  to  be  greater  sticklers  for 
exclusion  and  probation,  than  the  veritable  myn¬ 
heers  themselves.  Still,  up  to  1803  or  4,  things 
went  on  tolerably  well:  at  all  events,  there  was 
no  complaint.  The  assemblies  were  sufficiently 
select  as  to  quality,  and  perhaps  sufficiently 


RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS.  13 

liberal  in  their  range  as  to  number.  But,  some¬ 
where  about  the  period  referred  to,  the  self- 
constituted  managers  held  a  meeting,  at  which 
it  was  determined  that  the  city  assemblies  should 
in  future  be  “ more  select and  that  “a  line  of 
distinction ,”  as  they  termed  it,  should  be  drawn. 
Accordingly  a  new  list  was  made  out,  by  which 
it  was  soon  ascertained  that  several,  heretofore 
admitted,  had  been  left  off,  and  many  others 
excluded,  that  were  thought  to  be  better  entitled 
to  admission  than  many  that  were  retained.  The 
measure,  therefore,  was  taken  in  high  dudgeon 
by  the  friends  of  the  excluded  parties,  and  was 
considered  as  a  piece  of  arrogance,  even  by  those 
who  had  no  personal  cause  of  complaint. 

A  paper  war  was  immediately  commenced, 
and  the  character  and  pretension  of  the  managers 
were  ridiculed  and  satirized  in  a  style  as  new 
as  it  was  amusing.  A  series  of  poetical  epis¬ 
tles,  odes,  satires,  &c.  &c.,  appeared  in  rapid 
succession ;  some  of  them  displaying  a  good  deal 
of  taste  and  cleverness.  One  piece  in  particular, 
entitled  “  The  Conspiracy  of  the  Nobles,”  written 
in  mock  heroic  verse,  contained  some  capital  hits. 
It  gave  a  highly  poetic  description  of  the  first 
meeting  of  the  managers,  and  an  amusing  sketch 
of  their  persons,  pretensions,  characters  and  de- 


14  RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS. 


bates.*  The  most  ridiculous  speeches  were  of 


*[l  QUOTE  FROM  MEMORY  THE  FOLOWING  AS  A  SAMPLE.] 

Next,  up  rose  Milo,  with  a  graceful  mein, 

No  comelier  noble  on  the  floor  was  seen, 

And  all  undaunted  stood,  with  phiz  serene. 

Thrice  e’er  he  spoke,  with  easy  grace  he  bow’d, 

Twice  to  the  king,  once  only  to  the  crowd: 

His  hand  sincere,  he  placed  upon  his  breast. 

And  thus  his  majesty  and  peers  address’d. 

“  I  wage  no  war,  with  either  great  or  small; 

A  neutral  post  I  hold,  or  none  at  all: 

Of  squibs,  of  jarring  factions,  plebeian  bands 
And  proud  nobility,  I  wash  my  hand,s. 

My  interests  only,  henceforth  I’ll  pursue, 

To  please  all  men,  henceforth  shall  be  my  cue.” 

He  ceased  and  sat,  when  with  terrific  frown, 

That  darkened  all  the  hall  and  half  the  town, 

Lord  Roderick  rose,  and  ’neath  the  awful  shade, 

His  proud  imaginations  thus  display’d. 

“  Ye  gods!  and  is  it  come  to  this,  that  we,  •- 
The  city’s  proud  and  prime  nobility, 

Should  waive  our  right  of  birth,  our  rank  and  place 
To  gratify  this  new  and  upstart  race  ! 

Let  those  who  will,  to  base-born  interests  bend 
I  scorn  the  trading  tribe,  the  truckling  friend. 

Though  round  my  head  plebeian  placards  flit, 

With  saucy  satire  till’d,  and  damning  wit; 

Though  the  whole  town  should  join  the  vulgar  throng, 

And  point  the  finger  as  I  pass  along, 

Still  would  1  wear  my  wonted  lordly  face, 

And  vindicate  the  honors  of  my  race. 

Sooner  than  yield  to  their  insurgent  claims, 

I’d  see  the  hills  o’erthrown,  the  town  in  flames. 

Sooner  than  mingle  in  their  turbid  flood, 

And  dance  with  doxies  of  plebeian  blood, 

I’d  see  the  assemblies  to  perdition  hurl’d, 

And  round  them  piled  the  fiddlers  of  the  world ! 

I’d  see  old  Jove,  on  his  imperial  height, 

Blot  out  the  stars  and  quench  the  solar  light: 

I’d  see  the  angry  gods  their  vengeance  pour, 

And  hear,  unmoved,  eternal  chaos  roar  !” 

He  ended — and  applauding  murmurs  ran 
In  echoing  circles  round  the  sage  Divan. 

When,  rising  from  his  seat  with  scornful  look, 

Thus  spoke  Van  Trump,— and  spoke  it  like  a  book. 

“  I  view,  my  Lords,  with  deep  disgust  these  jars, 

These  petty  jealousies  and  paper  wars, 

And  above  all,  this  ‘blotting  out  the  stars!’ 

This  mighty  nonsense !  this  uproar  about 
The  right  of  entrance  at  a  dancing  rout. 

For  shame,  my  Lords !  for  once,  be  wise — be  civil. 

And  send  your  starch’d  exclusives  to  the  devil ! 

Take  my  advice — throw  wide  your  ball-room  door. 

Add  to  your  music  six,  and  sand  the  floor ! 

Take,  take  the  Yankees  in,  and  end  this  fuss, 

Or,  be  assured,  my  Lords,  they’ll  take  in  ms!” 


RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS.  15 

course  put  into  their  mouths,  and  they  were  thus 
made  to  exhibit  themselv.es  in  a  light  that  was  as 
laughable  as  it  was  absurd.  These  squibs  were 
answered  by  the  conspirators,  but  without  the  wit 
or  the  humor  that  characterized  the  pieces  of  their 
opponents.  The  tire,  however,  was  kept  up  on 
both  sides  for  several  weeks,  to  the  great  amuse¬ 
ment  of  the  town.  The  result  was  a  mortifying 
defeat  on  the  part  of  the  exclusionists.  The 
assemblies,  as  a  matter  of  course,  fell  into  the 
hands  of  the  victorious  party,  and,  to  their  credit, 
be  it  said,  were  conducted  with  more  taste  and 
propriety,  and  were  indeed  more  brilliantly  at¬ 
tended  than  they  had  ever  been  before. 

This  was  considered  as  a  victory  of  wit  over 
impudence,  or  rather  of  sense  over  nonsense.  It 
is  but  just,  however,  to  add,  that  the  real  old 
Knickerbocker  families  took  but  very  little  inte¬ 
rest  in  the  contest,  and  were  probably  not  much 
displeased  at  the  discomfiture  of  their  quondam 
allies. 

Let  us  now  turn  to  revolutions  of  a  graver 
import. 

A  restless,  levelling,  innovating  spirit,  now  pre¬ 
vailed  throughout  the  city.  The  detested  word 
improvement  was  in  every  mouth,  and  resistance 
was  unavailing.  The  stinted  pines  became 


16  RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS. 

alarmed,  and  gradually  receded.  The  hills 
themselves  gave  way.  New  streets  opened  their 
extended  lines,  and  the  old  ones  grew  wider. 
The  roosters  on  the  gable  heads,  that  for  more 
than  a  century  had  braved  the  Indians  and  the 
breeze;  that  had  even  flapped  their  wings  and 
crowed  in  the  face  of  Burgoyne  himself,  now 
gave  it  up,  and  came  quietly  down.  The  gables 
in  despair  soon  followed,  and  more  imposing 
fronts  soon  reared  their  corniced  heads.  The  old 
Dutch  church  itself,  though  thought  to  he  immor¬ 
tal  submitted  to  its  fate,  and  fell !  not  at  the  foot 
of  Pompey’s  statue,  exactly,  but  at  the  foot  of 
State-street,  which,  freed  from  that  obstruction, 
thenceforward  became  the  Bialto  of  the  city,  where 
pedlars  of  stale  sea-cod,  and  country  hucksters, 
“now  do  congregate.” 

Even  the  dogs  now  began  to  bark  in  broken 
englisli:  many  of  them,  indeed  had  already 
caught  the  Yankee  twang,  so  rapid  was  the  pro¬ 
gress  of  refinement.  In  the  process  of  a  few  brief 
years,  all  that  was  venerable  in  the  eyes  of  the 
ancient  burghers  disappeared.  Then  came  the 
great  eclipse  of  1806,  which  clearly  announced 
the  fall  and  final  end  of  the  dutch  dynasty.  It  is 
hardly  necessary  to  say,  that  not  an  iron  rooster 
has  crowed  upon  the  gable  heads,  nor  a  civil 


RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS.  17 

cocked  hat  been  seen  in  the  ancient  city  of  Al- 
Albany,  from  that  day  to  this ! 

But  let  it  he  remembered,  that  if  the  growth  of 
Albany  was  slow,  its  position  rendered  it  sure. 
The  great  west,  in  1800,  was  comparatively  a  wil¬ 
derness.  With  the  growth  of  this  vast  interior, 
Albany  has  grown:  it  has  increased  with  its  in¬ 
crease,  and  strengthened  with  its  strength.  No 
hand,  however  strong,  no  enterprise,  however 
active,  could  have  carried  it  forward  one  hour 
faster  than  it  went.  Its  trade  was  necessarily 
dependent  upon  the  population  and  products 
of  the  west,  and  with  these  it  has  fairly  kept 
pace. 

It  is,  however,  true  that  the  ancient  Dutch 
families,  though  among  the  most  wealthy  and 
respectable,  were  not  the  most  enterprising,  nor 
the  most  active.  Many  of  them  possessed  large 
landed  estates,  lived  upon  their  incomes,  and 
left  to  others  the  toils  and  profits  of  trade.  At  the 
head  of  this  class,  and  distinguished  for  his  many 
excellent  and  amiable  qualities,  stood  the  late  pa- 
troon,  Stephen  Van  Rensselaer:  a  man  widely  and 
honorably  known ;  rich  without  pride,  and  liberal 
without  ostentation.  I  may  also  mention  the 
name  of  Jeremiah  Van  Rensselaer,  a  whig  of  the 
revolution,  and  for  several  years  Lieutenant- 

c 


18 


RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS. 


Governor  of  the  state :  a  frank,  stout-hearted  old 
gentleman,  universally  respected. 

Generali  Ten  Brook,  also  of  the  revolutionary 
school,  distinguished  for  his  activity,  intelligence 
and  public  spirit. 

Cornelius  Van  Schelluyne,  the  then  best  living 
type  of  the  ancient  race;  rich,  honest,  indepen¬ 
dent,  unlettered  and  unpretending. 

In  alluding  to  these  ancient  and  wealthy  fa¬ 
milies,  that  of  the  Gansevoorts  should  not  he 
omitted :  for  it  is  connected  with  the  patriotism 
and  the  triumphs  of  the  revolution.  “  The  hero 
of  Fort  Stanwix”  has  left  to  his  descendants  a 
time-honored  name — a  name  that  belongs  to  the 
history  of  the  country,  and  to  one  of  its  most 
interesting  and  important  periods. 

But  those  of  a  more  active  and  business-like 
character  among  the  Dutch,  were  the  Bleeckers, 
the  Lansings,  the  Douws,  the  Van  Schaicks,  the 
Ten  Eycks,  the  Ten  Broecks,  the  Pruyns,  the 
Hochstrassers,  the  Van  Loons,  and  the  Staatses. 
The  principal  merchants  of  the  city,  however — 
those  who  gave  life  and  character  to  its  business 
interests — were  citizens  of  a  more  recent  date, 
coming  from  different  parts  of  the  Union,  hut 
mostly  from  New-England.  Among  these,  were 
James  Kane,  Dudley  Walsh,  William  James, 


RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS.  19 

Isaiah  Townsend,  Gilbert  Stewart,  Thomas  Gould, 
Thomas  Mather,  William,  John,  and  Alexander 
Marvin,  Peter  and  John  I.  Boyd,  John  Spencer  & 
Co.,  John  and  Spencer  Stafford,  Issac  and  George 
Hutton,  the  Messrs.  Webbs,  and  many  others. 

There  was  still  another  class,  not  less  active, 
nor  less  important,  in  a  business  point  of  view. 
I  allude  to  a  then  comparatively  new,  or  recently 
established  body  of  mechanics,  of  which  Benja¬ 
min  Knower  was  confessedly  at  the  head.  Mr. 
Knower  was  indeed  a  man  of  strong  mind  and 
persevering  energy  of  character.  Through  his 
influence,  the  charter  of  the  Mechanics’  and 
Farmers’  Bank  was  obtained ;  and  the  mechanics 
of  the  city  of  Albany  rose  in  consideration  and 
respect,  personal  and  political,  to  a  height  which 
they  had  never  before  reached. 

Among  the  merchants  (I  speak  of  the  period 
from  1800  to  1808),  Mr.  Kane  was  perhaps  the 
most  prominent.  He  was,  indeed,  in  many 
respects,  the  most  prominent  man  in  the  city: 
prominent  from  his  extensive  operations  and 
business  connections ;  prominent  from  his  wealth, 
his  liberality,  his  marked  attention  to  strangers, 
his  gentlemanly  style  of  dress,  and  bachelor  mode 
of  living.  He  was  distinguished,  too,  by  an 
address  and  manner  so  singularly  polite  and 


20 


RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS. 


courteous  as  seemingly  to  border  upon  excess. 
But  let  it  be  remembered,  to  his  honor,  that  as 
no  man  in  the  city  was  more  generally  known, 
so  there  was  no  one  more  generally  or  more 
highly  respected.  The  courtesy  or  politeness  of 
Mr.  Kane  did  not,  however,  consist  in  mere  words 
or  modes  of  expression.  It  had  its  foundation  in 
good  feeling — I  may  say  in  humanity,  which 
speaks  to  the  heart,  and  is  understood  where 
words  are  not;  which,  rising  superior  to  forms 
and  fashions,  borrows  nothing  from  art,  nothing 
from  eloquence. 

I  shall  venture,  by  way  of  illustration,  to  give 
an  instance  of  this  sort  of  politeness.  There 
appeared  at  the  dinner  table  of  the  Tontine  Coffee 
House,  where  Mr.  Kane  then  hoarded,  and  at  a 
time  when  the  house  was  crowded  to  excess,  an 
old  gentleman  and  his  wife.  They  were  very 
plainly  dressed,  but  still  respectable  in  their  ap¬ 
pearance.  They  were,  evidently,  country  people, 
“from  down  east;”  and  were  probably  bound  on 
a  visit  to  their  relations  in  the  west.  The  ser¬ 
vants,  always  too  few  in  number,  were  now 
altogether  insufficient  to  attend  to  the  wants  of 
the  company  at  table.  The  old  people,  therefore, 
being  strangers,  and  unknown  to  any  one,  were 
totally  neglected.  It  was  shameful!  I  made 


RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS.  21 

one  or  two  efforts  to  get  a  servant  to  attend 
to  them,  hut  all  in  vain:  there  were  too  many 
louder  and  more  authoritative  calls.  At  length, 
however,  they  were  noticed  by  Mr.  Kane,  who 
looked  round  for  his  own  servant,  hut  finding 
him  engaged,  immediately  left  his  seat  and  walk¬ 
ed  down  to  the  lower  end  of  the  table  where  the 
old  couple  sat,  and  politely  asked  them  what  they 
would  he  helped  to ;  took  their  plates  to  a  side- 
table,  carved  for  them  himself,  helped  them  to 
vegetables,  bread,  &c.,  and  then  returned  quietly 
to  his  seat.  He  was  doubtless  taken  by  the  old 
people,  and  perhaps  by  other  strangers,  for  the 
master  of  the  house,  or  the  head  waiter !  There 
was  certainly  no  gentleman  present  who  dared 
to  run  the  risk  of  being  so  mistaken.  But  Mr. 
Kane  could  afford  it.  The  politeness,  or,  more 
properly  speaking,  the  humanity  of  the  act,  did 
him  honor,  and  far  outweighed  the  momentary, 
or  rather  the  imaginary  loss  of  dignity. 

As  a  people,  we  cannot  be  sufficiently  grateful 
to  Providence  for  the  character  of  our  ancestors. 
From  the  Puritans  of  England,  the  Hugenots  of 
France,  and  the  Protestants  of  the  Netherlands, 
did  this  country  derive  the  seeds  and  elements  of 
its  greatness:  its  purity  of  faith,  its  principles, 
and  its  power,  To  them,  under  Providence,  are 


22 


RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS. 


we  indebted  for  our  civil  and  religious  liberties, 
the  character  of  our  institutions,  and  the  hardy, 
resolute  and  enterprising  spirit  of  the  nation. 
Talents  and  virtues  are  alike  hereditary,  though 
the  stream  is  not  always  unbroken  by  shallows, 
nor  the  measure  of  its  greatness  always  full. 
There  must,  I  think,  have  been  a  strong  fund  of 
good  sense  and  native  talent  in  the  early  Dutch 
settlers.  We  have  seen  it  break  out  occasionally, 
even  in  the  fourth  and  fifth  generations;  and 
sometimes,  too,  quite  unexpectedly,  as  in  the 
case  of  Ex-President  Van  Buren,  whose  imme¬ 
diate  antecedents  gave  no  promise  of  such  an 
eruption,  or  even  foreshadowed  the  probability 
of  such  an  event.  Still,  in  all  such  cases,  there 
must  have  been  a  living  spring  (no  matter  how 
remote)  from  whence  the  waters  flowed. 

Among  the  Dutch  families  of  Albany,  in  which 
a  strong  vein  of  original  talent,  occasionally 
manifested  itself,  were  those  of  the  Schuylers, 
the  Van  Vechtens,  the  Lansings,  and  the  Yates’s. 
General  Schuyler,  of  the  Revolution,  was  a  man 
of  great  vigor  of  mind,  strong  sense,  and  sound 
judgment;  which  was  happily  associated  with 
liberal  feelings,  and  principles  of  honor  and 
patriotism.  He  should  by  right  have  command¬ 
ed  that  army  in  the  revolutionary  war,  which, 


RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS.  23 

in  the  day  of  battle,  he  joined  as  a  volunteer, — a 
man  greatly  his  inferior  having  been  placed  over 
his  head.  But  no  neglect  or  injury  could  alienate 
his  feelings,  or  weaken  his  attachment  to  the 
cause  of  his  country. 

The  talents  and  character  of  Abraham  Van 
Vechten,  are  still  fresh  in  the  memory  of  the 
living.  He  was  one  of  the  ablest  members  of 
the  Albany  bar,  when  that  bar  was  studded  with 
eminent  names. 

Chancellor  Lansing,  though  not  possessed  of 
shining  talents,  was  nevertheless  a  man  of  good 
abilities  and  of  strict  integrity.  His  brother, 
Abraham  G.,  was  a  man  of  sound  sense  and 
vigorous  tone  of  mind;  rough,  and  somewhat 
abrupt  in  his  manner,  but  upright,  frank  and 
fearless,  in  conduct  and  in  character. 

Old  Judge  Yates,  one  of  the  members  of  the 
Convention  that  framed  the  Constitution,  was  a 
clear-headed,  strong-minded  man;  straight  for¬ 
ward,  honest  and  patriotic.  His  son,  John  Van 
Ness  Yates,  was  a  man  of  talents,  both  natural 
and  acquired.  He  was  equal  to  the  duties  of  any 
station,  and  to  the  difficulties  of  any  task.  He 
was  a  wit,  a  poet,  a  belles-lettres  scholar,  and  a 
boon  companion,  whose  joke  was  ever  ready,  and 
whose  laugh  was  contagious.  He  wanted  no- 


24 


RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS. 


thing  but  industry  and  relf-respect,  to  have  made 
him  eminent  as  a  lawyer.  His  associations  were 
beneath  him,  not  only  in  point  of  talent,  but  in 
character;  yet  they  affected  his  interests  rather 
than  his  principles.  He  possessed  the  readiest 
apprehension,  and  the  most  retentive  memory,  of 
any  man  I  ever  knew.  All  that  he  had  ever 
read,  and  he  had  read  a  vast  deal,  was  at  his 
fingers  ends.  He  was  often  consulted  by  the 
younger  members  of  the  bar,  while  walking  in 
the  streets;  and,  without  a  moment’s  hesitation, 
would  take  out  his  pencil  and  write  down  what 
was  the  law  in  the  case,  and  where  it  was  to  be 
found' — volume,  chapter  and  verse  !  From  these 
frequent  street  consultations,  he  was  called  “the 
walking  library.” 

But  the  cleverest  man  of  the  name  or  family, 
was  John  W.  Yates.  He  was  a  man  of  educa¬ 
tion,  of  talents,  of  natural  eloquence,  and  of 
extensive  reading.  He  was  the  best  classical 
scholar  in  the  city' — Judge  Kent  not  excepted. 
He  was  familiar  with  the  greek,  latin  and  french 
languages  and  literature;  a  mathematician,  and 
a  passionate  lover  of  the  belles-lettres.  He  was 
bred  to  the  law,  but  never  attempted  to  practice ; 
yet,  I  repeat,  he  was  naturally  eloquent,  and,  in 
his  buoyant  moments,  one  of  the  most  lively  and 


RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS. 


25 


agreeable  men  in  conversation  that  I  ever  met 
with. 

Such  a  man,  it  is  natural  to  suppose,  made  a 
figure  in  his  day:  no  such  thing;  he  made  no 
figure  at  all.  He  was  not  appreciated  by  the 
public,  because  the  public  knew  nothing  of  him. 
He  was  not  known  even  to  his  friends,  for  the 
very  good  and  sufficient  reason  that  his  friends 
knew  nothing  of  greek  or  latin,  of  mathematics 
or  of  poetry.  It  was  curious  to  find  him  reading 
Homer  with  a  pipe  in  his  mouth ;  and  to  see  him 
turn  from  the  page  of  Thucydides,  to  talk  dutch. 
Yet  this  alternation  between  the  languages  of 
Athens  and  Amsterdam,  was  in  some  measure 
unavoidable;  for  many  of  his  old  friends,  and 
indeed  most  of  the  old  families,  continued  to 
speak,  in  their  domestic  circles,  the  language  of 
their  ancestors  long  after  the  period  to  which 
these  sketches  refer. 

Though  no  man  set  a  higher  value  upon  literary 
acquirements  than  himself,  yet  he  took  no  pains 
to  exhibit,  much  less  to  profit  by  those  he  pos¬ 
sessed.  Political  distinction  he  never  sought, 
and  never  desired.  He  had  no  taste  for  popular 
parade,  no  love  for  public  display.  He  was,  in 
fact,  better  acquainted  with  Pericles  and  Xeno¬ 
phon  than  he  was  with  the  aldermen  of  the  ward 


26 


RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS. 


in  which  he  lived.  His  knowledge  of  ancient 
history  was  more  perfect  than  that  of  any  other 
man  I  ever  knew,  nor  was  that  of  modern  Europe 
less  familiar.  History,  poetry  and  philosophy; 
Egypt  and  Asia,  Athens  and  Rome,  with  all  their 
classic  superstitions  and  diviner  arts,  were  the 
subjects  of  many  an  evening  conversation,  to 
which  I  listened  with  delight. 

To  this  faint  sketch  of  his  literary  character,  I 
may  add,  that  no  man  possessed  a  higher  sense 
of  honor,  or  was  governed  in  his  conduct  by  purer 
principles.  His  talents  and  his  tastes  were, 
indeed,  altogether  above  the  position  in  which  he 
was  placed;  and  hence,  instead  of  giving  him 
celebrity,  they  served  but  to  render  him,  in  some 
measure,  unsuited  to  the  station  he  held.  But 
never  will  that  station,  or  that  official  rank,  be 
again  honored  with  so  much  learning,  combined 
with  so  much  talent. 

Let  it  not  be  supposed  that  this  is  a  mere  fancy 
sketch,  “writ  for  the  sake  of  writing  it.”  It  is  a 
tribute  justly  due  to  the  memory  of  a  man  whose 
merits  were  unappreciated,  and  comparatively 
unknown.  It  is  a  tribute  which  I  owe  to  the 
recollection  of  his  partiality  and  kindness ;  to  the 
memory  of  many  a  friendly  lecture — many  a 
social — many  a  pleasant  hour. 


4 


RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS.  27 

Of  the  public  men  of  Albany,  Office  holders, 
Politicians  and  Jurists,  it  may  be  expected  that  I 
should  say  something.  Among  the  most  promi¬ 
nent  were  Geo.  Clinton,  Jno.  Taylor,  Ambrose 
Spencer,  James  Kent,  Chancellor  Lansing,  Abra¬ 
ham  Van  Vechten,  John  V.  Henry,  John  Wood- 
worth,  Thos.  Tillotson,  Abraham  G.  Lansing, 
Elisha  Jenkins,  Edmond  Charles  Genet,  and  last, 
though  not  least,  the  editor  of  the  Albany  Regis¬ 
ter,  Solomon  Southwick  !  These  are  names  too 
well  known  to  require  any  comment.  Many  of 
them  are  identified  with  the  history  of  the  State, 
and  will  be  chronicled  in  its  pages. 

I  can  not  in  courtesy,  however,  pass  over  my 
old  friend  Southwick,  without  some  other  notice 
than  that  of  a  mere  casual  glance  of  recognition. 

Southwick  was  a  man  of  genius,  with  all  the 
peculiarities  that  belong  to  that  temperament — its 
strength  and  its  weakness,  its  excellencies  and  its 
errors :  its  delusive  dreams  and  visions,  its  impro¬ 
vidence  and  its  instability.  He  had  great  fertility 
of  mind,  united  with  'great  enthusiasm.  This 
was  the  source  of  his  eloquence  and  his  power. 
His  writings  were  rather  outpourings  than  compo¬ 
sitions.  Yet  he  imbued  them  with  so  much  life 
and  animation,  that  he  seldom  failed  to  carry 
his  readers  with  them.  His  style,  though  well 


28 


RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS. 


adapted  to  the  popular  ear,  was  redundant 
in  epithet,  inflated  and  declamatory,  and  his 
language,  though  often  strong  and  impressive, 
was  yet  in  the  main,  loose  and  inelegant.  He 
read  but  little,  and  only  from  necessity.  He 
referred  to  books  for  particular  facts,  rather  than 
for  general  information. 

He  was,  by  nature,  honest,  warm-hearted,  and 
generous  to  a  fault,  but  seemed  to  have  no  fixed 
or  settled  principles.  In  ethics,  as  well  as  in 
politics,  he  travelled  from  pole  to  pole.  Yet,  the 
kindness  of  his  nature  went  with  him  and  never 
forsook  him ,  His  heart  and  his  hand  were  always 
open;  and  as  he  was  credulous  to  excess,  and 
even  superstitious,  he  was,  as  a  matter  of  course, 
swindled  by  every  knave,  and  duped  by  every 
impostor,  he  met  with  upon  the  road. 

He  was  extremely  fluent  and  even  eloquent  in 
conversation.  But  he  had  little  knowledge  of 
the  world,  and  the  predominance  of  interest  or  of 
passion,  left  his  judgment  too  often  at  fault.  He 
had  the  finest  eye  and  forehead  that  ever  belonged 
to  mortal  man,  but  every  other  feature  of  his  face, 
was  either  indifferent  or  defective.  His  counte¬ 
nance,  therefore,  was  a  correct  index  to  the 
character  of  his  mind — -incongruous,  mixed,  and 
full  of  contradictions. 


RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS.  29 

The  Albany  Register,  which  he  so  long  and 
ably  edited,  was  pronounced,  by  Judge  Spencer, 
to  be  the  “  Political  Bible  of  the  Western  District.” 
A  greater  compliment  was  certainly  never  paid 
to  the  conductor  of  a  political  journal. 

Mr.  Southwick  held,  at  different  periods,  the 
office  of  State  printer,  clerk  of  the  House  of  As¬ 
sembly,  sheriff  of  the  county  of  Albany,  president 
of  the  Mechanics’  and  Farmers’  Bank,  and  post¬ 
master  of  the  city.  Even  in  the  cloudy  days  of 
his  latter  years,  when  friends,  fame  and  fortune, 
had  forsaken  him,  when  every  objectionable  act 
of  his  life  was  spread  upon  the  record,  and  all  his 
faults  and  weaknesses  blazoned  to  the  public  eye ; 
even  then  he  received  over  Thirty  Thousand  votes 
for  governor  of  the  State. 

Of  the  clergy  of  those  days,  if  I  am  wise,  I  shall 
say  but  little :  first,  because  I  recollect  but  little ; 
and  secondly,  because,  with  me,  the  subject  is 
not  a  debateable  one.  One’s  opinions,  unless 
moulded  early,  are  often  formed  by  accident,  or 
spring  up  as  the  result  of  circumstances.  It  has 
often  occurred  to  me  as  not  a  little  singular,  that 
my  attention  should  have  been  turned  to  the 
unkindred  subjects  of  politics  and  religion,  at 
about  the  same  period  of  time.  The  noise  and 
triumph  of  Mr.  Jefferson’s  election  to  the  presi- 


30 


RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS. 


dency,  led  me  to  look  a  little  into  the  mysterious 
philosophy  of  party  politics;  and  the  preaching 
of  Dr.  Nott,  carried  me,  nolens  nolens,  into  the 
Presbyterian  brick  church  of  South  Pearl-street. 
Thus  I  acquired,  at  nearly  one  and  the  same  time, 
a  decided  inclination  to  church  and  State ;  or,  in 
other  words,  a  marked  taste  for  politics  and 
preaching.  No  one,  certainly,  could  have  studied 
under  abler  masters:  and  for  many  of  the  opinions 
I  entertain  to  this  day,  I  hold  those  masters  re¬ 
sponsible. 

But  the  only  names  belonging  to  the  church,  of 
which  my  memory  took  cognizance,  at  the  period 
referred  to,  or  of  which  I  have  any  distinct  recol¬ 
lection,  are  those  of  Nott,  Romaine  and  Bradford. 

Mr.  Bradford  was  a  well  educated — well  read — 
and  gentlemanly  man.  He  was,  moreover,  one 
of  the  handsomest  men  in  the  city,  which  in  the 
minds  or  fancies  of  the  fairer  part  of  his  congre¬ 
gation,  added  no  doubt  to  his  eloquence,  and  of 
course  to  his  usefulness  in  the  church.  Mr.  Ro¬ 
maine  was  an  able  man,  of  a  denunciatory  and 
vehement  style  of  oratory — altogether  too  calvi- 
nistic  to  suit  the  taste  of  his  hearers.  But  it  must 
be  remembered 

“  That  no  rogue  e’er  felt  the  halter  draw, 

With  good  opinion  of  the  law.” 

Doctor  Nott,  I  should  say,  was  neither  a  Cal- 


RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS. 


31 


vinist  nor  a  Lutheran.  In  other  words,  he  was 
no  bigoted  sectarian ;  and  in  this  respect,  he  bore, 
and  stills  hears,  I  think,  hut  little  resemblance  to 
many  of  his  clerical  brethren.  In  mind ,  as  well 
as  in  manner,  he  stood  alone.  The  narrow  dogmas, 
and  common  place  oratory  of  the  church,  were 
beneath  him.  His  ambition  was  to  make  men 
wiser  and  better,  rather  than  to  promote  the  secta¬ 
rian  interests  and  speculative  tenets  of  the  church. 
The  eloquent  enforcement  of  that  single  injunc¬ 
tion  “to  do  unto  others  as  you  would  have  others 
do  unto  you,”  would  to  an  unsophisticated  mind 
be  of  more  efficacy  than  a  dozen  dry  discourses 
upon  evidence,  which  no  novice  requires,  or  upon 
those  knotty  points  in  theology,  which  no  intel¬ 
lect  can  comprehend.  But  it  is  not  my  business 
to  preach,  nor  am  I  disposed  to  criticise  the 
preaching  of  others.  All  I  mean  to  say  is,  that 
Doctor  Nott  was  by  far  the  most  eloquent  and 
effective  preacher  of  the  period  to  which  I  refer ; 
that  he  drew  together  the  largest  congregation — 
made  the  deepest  impression,  and  commanded 
the  profoundest  respect. 

His  church  was  filled  to  overflowing.  His  ap¬ 
pearance  in  the  pulpit,  his  style  of  eloquence,  his 
very  look, 

“  Drew  audience  and  attention  still  as  night, 

Or  summer’s  noontide  air . ” 


32 


RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS. 


His  elocution  was  admirable,  and  his  manner 
altogether  better,  because  more  impressive,  than 
that  of  any  other  preacher  of  the  day :  yet  he 
could  not,  I  think,  have  been  over  twenty-eight 
or  thirty  years  of  age  when  I  first  heard  him, 
which  was  in  1803.  Shortly  afterwards,  I  had 
the  pleasure  of  becoming  personally  acquainted 
with  him,  and  soon  found  he  possessed  powers 
and  qualities  of  which  his  congregation  little 
dreamed.  His  talents  were  by  no  means  con¬ 
fined  to  pulpit  eloquence,  nor  even  to  the  wider 
range  of  clerical  duties.  His  information  extend¬ 
ed  to  almost  every  department  of  life ;  and  with 
the  whole  fabric  of  human  society,  he  was  per¬ 
fectly  familiar.  He  understood  the  animal  man, 
not  only  in  the  abstract,  but  in  all  the  detail  of 
action,  passion  and  propensity.  He  was,  more¬ 
over,  a  mechanist,  a  political  economist,  a  philo¬ 
sopher,  and  what  is  of  more  consequence  in  any 
ivalk  of  life,  a  man  of  keen  observation  and  sound 
sense.  But  he  is  still  living,  and  too  widely 
known,  to  require  any  portraiture  from  my  pen. 


BATTLE  IN  STATE-STREET. 


Among  other  incidents  and  events,  falling  with¬ 
in  the  range  of  these  reminiscences,  was  the  fa- 


RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS.  33 

mous  passage  of  arms ,  that  took  place  between 
an  eminent  citizen  and  a  distinguished  general, 
in  one  of  the  principal  streets  of  the  city,  in 
open  day.  It  was  a  perilous,  hand  to  hand  en¬ 
counter,  that  brought  together,  at  least,  one  half 
of  the  male  population  of  the  town — not  as  spec¬ 
tators  merely,  hut  as  combatants,  who,  like  the 
knights  of  old,  entered  the  lists  with  an  alacrity 
and  a  spirit,  that  would,  have  done  honor  to  the 
heroes  of  chivalry,  when  chivalry  was  in  its 
prime,  and  knighthood  in  its  glory.  The  full 
breadth  of  State-street,  from  Pearl  down  to  the 
intersection  of  Court  and  Market,  was  literally 
filled  with  the  combatants;  while  the  doors, 
porches,  windows,  and  even  the  house-tops  on 
both  sides,  were  crowded  with  astonished  and 
terrified  spectators.  The  street,  viewed  from  any 
elevated  position,  resembled  a  tumultuous  sea  of 
heads,  over  which  clattered  a  forest  of  canes ;  the 
vast  body  now  surging  this  way,  now  that,  as 
the  tide  of  combat  ebbed  or  flowed.  It  was, 
certainly,  one  of  the  most  classic  or  greek-like 
battles  that  had  been  fought  since  the  wars  of 
Ilium,  and  the  heroic  days  of  Hector  and  Achil¬ 
les.  But  as  it  respects  the  origin  of  the  war,  the 
names  of  the  combatants,  and  the  details  of  the 
fight,  are  they  not  written  in  the  hook  of  the 

E 


34  RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS. 

kings  of  Jndali  and  Israel!  If  not,  they  may 
perhaps,  he  found  in  the  chronicles  of  the  lives  of 
the  illustrious  fathers  of  the  city.  Certain  it  is 
that  the  battle  has  already  been  described ;  and 
the  record,  like  the  Iliad,  will  he  found  imper¬ 
ishable  ! 


It  is  a  little  curious,  when  we  consider  what 
Albany  now  is,  to  look  back  and  recollect,  that 
so  late  as  1803,  there  was  hut  one  public  house 
in  the  city ;  or,  at  least,  hut  one  in  any  respect 
better  than  a  common  signpost  tavern,  such  as 
no  gentleman  of  the  present  day  would  put  his 
foot  in:  hut  that  owe  was  an  excellent  one.  I 
allude  to  the  Tontine  Coffee  House  in  State-street, 
kept  by  Mr.  Gregory :  a  house  distinguished  from 
all  other  public  houses  of  that  day,  by  the  quiet 
order  that  reigned  through  all  its  departments; 
by  its  perfect  neatness,  and  the  total  absence  of 
a  bar.  The  higher  rates  of  fare  charged  at  the 
Tontine,  and  the  fact  that  no  liquors  were  sold 
except  to  its  own  boarders,  nor  ever  seen  except  at 
table,  excluded  the  loiv  and  thirsty,  and  left  it,  as 
it  were  by  a  law  of  its  nature,  open  to  good  com¬ 
pany  alone.  I  need  not  say  that  it  was  well 
filled:  it  was,  at  least  half  the  year,  redundantly 


RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS. 


35 


full.  All  travellers  of  any  note  or  consequence ; 
all  foreigners  of  distinction ;  in  one  word,  all  gen¬ 
tlemen  put  up  at  the  Tontine.  For  a  period  of  some 
ten  or  twelve  years,  Mr.  Gregory  had  no  compe¬ 
tition,  no  rival  house  to  contend  with ;  and  was 
therefore  compelled,  I  do  not  say  reluctantly,  to 
make  a  fortune ! 

Manners,  ’tis  said,  change  with  customs ;  and 
customs,  we  all  know,  change  sometimes  for  the 
worse.  I  have  seen  something  of  public  houses 
and  hotels  since  Mr.  Gregory’s  day,  and  am 
forced  to  acknowledge,  that  on  the  score  of 
gentlemanly  habits,  politeness,  and  courtesy 
among  their  guests,  and  in  reference  also  to  the 
civility  of  their  keepers  and  waiters,  the  present 
hears  no  comparison  with  the  past.  The  inmates 
of  the  best  hotels  of  the  present  day,  are  as  va¬ 
ried  in  their  aspects,  habits  and  character,  as 
were  the  motley  herd  that  took  lodgings  in  the 
ark ;  while  of  their  keepers  and  waiters,  the  best 
that  can  be  said,  is,  that  they  are  in  keeping  with 
the  character  of  their  company.  An  occasional 
exception  does  hut  strengthen  the  rule. 

It  was  at  the  Tontine  that  I  became  acquaint¬ 
ed  with  many  of  the  leading  politicians  and  dis¬ 
tinguished  men  of  the  State.  It  was  there  I  first 
saw  De  Witt  Clinton,  Alexander  Hamilton,  Aaron 


36  RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS. 

Burr,  Doctor  Mason,  Morgan  Lewis,  Daniel  D. 
Tompkins,  John  Armstrong,  Chancellor  Livings¬ 
ton,  and  many  others.  It  was  while  there,  I  had 
the  opportunity  and  the  pleasure  of  examining, 
leisurely,  and  with  a  critical  eye,  that  lightest 
twig  of  the  great  Corsican  tree,  Mr.  Jerome  Bo¬ 
naparte;  and  of  observing  the  fine  form,  the 
careless,  abandoned  air,  and  soldierly  aspect  of 
the  celebrated  Moreau,  the  rival  at  once  of  Xeno¬ 
phon  and  Napoleon.  The  Tontine  was,  indeed, 
for  several  years,  my  local  observatory,  from 
which  I  watched  the  transit  of  the  political  pla¬ 
nets,  and  noted  the  restless  movements  of  the 
Avandering  stars.  It  was,  in  fact,  the  best  school- 
house  I  ever  entered,  and  the  only  one,  I  am 
sorry  to  say,  in  which  I  ever  took  much  delight. 

I  cannot  resist  the  temptation  (though  I  know 
I  shall  make  nothing  of  it)  to  relate  a  ludicrous 
circumstance  which  took  place  at  the  Tontine, 
in  the  summer  of  1804.  I  am  well  aware  that 
many  a  good  joke  has  been  spoiled,  and  many  a 
laughable  incident  rendered  grave,  by  an  attempt 
to  put  them  on  paper.  ’Tis  useless,  said  Doctor 
Johnson,  to  print  Quin’s  jokes,  unless  you  print 
his  face  with  them.  Nevertheless,  I  shall  ven¬ 
ture  to  relate  the  circumstance  to  which  I  have 
referred.  I  shall  call  it 


RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS.  37 


THE  STORY  OF  MONSIEUR  GARROT, 

Among  the  many  foreigners  at  the  Tontine  in 
the  travelling  season  of  1804,  was  a  french  gen¬ 
tleman  by  the  name  of  Garrot,  apparently  about 
twenty-five  or  thirty  years  of  age;  remarkable 
for  the  simplicity  of  his  manners,  for  his  taste  in 
music,  and  for  his  inability  to  speak  a  word  of 
english.  His  personal  appearance  was  greatly  in 
his  favor ;  being  stout,  well  made,  and  of  a  most 
agreeable  countenance.  Sitting  near  him  at  ta¬ 
ble,  and  speaking  a  little  french,  I  soon  became 
acquainted  with  him.  He  was,  I  found,  a  ger¬ 
man  by  birth,  born  in  Frankfort,  but  a  resident 
of  Nantes.  He  remained  several  months  in  the 
city,  was  flush  of  money,  and  liberal,  not  to  say 
profuse,  in  his  expenditures. 

His  object,  if  indeed  he  had  any,  was  to  ob¬ 
tain  information  as  to  the  form  and  character  of 
our  government;  the  institutions  and  condition 
of  the  country;  its  extent,  population,  trade, 
commerce,  agricultural  products,  arts,  manufac¬ 
tures,  &c.  &c.  Of  all  the  travellers  I  had  ever 
met  with,  he  was  the  most  inquisitive.  He  ask¬ 
ed  ten  thousand  questions  about  things  of  which 
I  knew  nothing,  or  next  to  nothing  —  questions, 


38  RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS. 

some  of  which,  it  would  have  puzzled  Chief 
Justice  Marshall,  Mr.  Madison,  Mr.  Clay,  or  Mr. 
Anybody  Else,  save  John  Quincy  Adams,  to  have 
answered  olf-hand.  But  as  I  perceived  he  enter¬ 
tained  a  high  opinion  of  my  abilities,  I  had  not 
the  heart,  nor  was  it  indeed  my  business,  to  un- 
decieve  him.  I  was  ashamed  to  confess  igno¬ 
rance  upon  any  point,  and  therefore  gave  him 
prompt  and  specific  answers  to  each  and  every 
question,  let  it  relate  to  what  it  might :  but  the 
mischief  of  it  was,  they  were  all  taken  for  gospel, 
and  immediately  noted  down  in  his  tablets. 

I  could  not  hut  laugh  at  the  idea.  It  was,  per¬ 
haps,  unfair  on  my  part,  hut  the  fault  was  his. 
To  suppose  a  young  man  of  twenty-two  or  three, 
of  sufficient  authority  for  the  history  and  statis¬ 
tics  of  an  empire,  was  absurd.  He  should  have 
known  better.  Many  a  book,  however,  has  been 
written  upon  information  of  an  inferior  quality  to 
that  with  which  I  furnished  Monsieur  Garrot,  and 
from  a  less  rational,  not  to  say  reliable  source. 
It  was  through  the  priests  and  poets  of  Egypt 
and  Assyria,  that  Herodotus  obtained  the  mate¬ 
rials  for  his  famous  history ;  and  who  thinks  the 
less  of  his  history  on  that  account  ?  The  credu¬ 
lity  and  child-like  simplicity  of  the  author,  toge¬ 
ther  with  the  traditional  and  poetical  character 


RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS.  39 

of  its  testimony  constitute,  in  fact,  its  greatest 
attractions. 

But  Monsieur  Garrot,  no  doubt,  congratulated 
himself  upon  his  good  fortune  in  finding  a  person 
so  full  of  information,  and  so  ready  to  impart  it. 
On  the  other  side,  I  did  the  best  I  could,  under 
the  circumstances.  I  studied  day  and  night  to 
prepare  myself  for  Mr.  Garrot’ s  questions;  and  if 
monsieur  published  his  hook,  I  flattered  myself 
that  it  would  be  found  in  the  truth  of  its  state¬ 
ments  and  the  accuracy  of  its  details,  at  least  equal 
to  the  history  of  Herodotus,  or  the  travels  of  Basil 
Hall! 

But  this  has  nothing  to  do  with  the  circum¬ 
stance  which  it  was  my  intention  to  narrate.  It 
may  serve,  however,  as  a  preface  to  the  story, 
which  runs  thus : 

Monsieur  Garrot  and  myself,  after  a  long  walk 
one  Sunday  afternoon,  returned  to  the  Tontine 
about  six  o’clock.  The  weather  was  extremely 
hot;  and  as  the  private  parlors  below  were  filled 
with  strangers,  I  accompanied  Mr.  Garrot  to  his 
own  chamber,  where,  complaining  of  the  heat, 
he  threw  off  his  coat,  and,  somewhat  to  my  sur¬ 
prise,  continued  the  operation  of  stripping,  until 
he  came  to  the  last  article,  over  which,  however, 
he  threw  a  light  silk  morning  gown  — light,  in- 


40  RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS. 

deed,  as  gossamer:  this  he  tied  loosely  at  the 
neck,  and  then  sticking  his  toes  into  a  pair  of 
yellow  slippers,  began  walking  backward  and 
forward  between  the  window  and  door,  both  of 
which  were  thrown  open  to  admit  the  air.  The 
window  looked  into  the  street ;  the  door  opened 
into  a  wide  hall,  with  dormitories  on  either  side. 
While  thus  cooling  himself  in  the  breeze,  which 
swept  his  loose  drapery  from  side  to  side,  he  sud¬ 
denly  turned  to  me  and  inquired  whether  I  was 
fond  of  mtisic.  I  answered,  of  course,  in  the 
affirmative.  When,  without  further  ceremony, 
he  opened  a  long  case  filled  with  musical  instru¬ 
ments  of  various  kinds,  and  asked  me  which  I 
preferred.  I  could  hardly  believe  it  possible  that 
he  really  meant  to  exercise  his  musical  talents 
on  that  day  of  the  week;  but  being  a  little  curi¬ 
ous,  and,  I  must  confess,  a  little  mischievous  at 
the  same  time,  I  pointed  to  the  violin,  which  he 
immediately  took  out,  and  began  to  twang  and 
tune.  The  discharge  of  a  12-pounder  in  the  hall, 
would  not  have  set  the  house  in  greater  commo¬ 
tion.  The  first  scrape  of  the  bow  brought  half  a 
dozen  chambermaids  to  the  door ;  who,  catching 
sight  of  monsieur’s  bare  legs,  &c.,  ran  down  stairs, 
and  reported  that  there  was  a  frenchman  fiddling 
in  the  chambers,  stark  naked!  By  this  time,  my 


RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS.  41 

friend  Giarrot  had  got  fairly-a-going ;  and,  with 
his  head  inclined  to  one  shoulder,  and  his  eye 
turned  upwards,  stalked  up  and  down  the  room, 
fiddling  as  if  the  devil,  together  with  Apollo  and 
the  whole  nine,  were  in  him.  The  figure  he  cut 
was  so  ridiculous,  that  I  thought  I  should  have 
died  in  the  effort  to  suppress  my  laughter. 

In  less  than  five  minutes  from  the  time  he 
began,  it  appeared  to  me  that  not  less  than  five 
hundred  heads  had  passed  the  door,  each  one 
catching  something  more  than  a  glimpse  of  mon¬ 
sieur’s  fine  form.  The  wind  seemed  to  increase 
with  the  music,  and  the  stride  of  the  performer 
became  more  lofty  and  majestic.  At  every  turn 
the  morning  gown  filled  and  swelled  with  the 
breeze  —  now  waving  and  flapping  in  the  cross 
current,  and  now  extending  out,  as  it  were,  upon 
a  taught  bowline.  The  hall  was  literally  crowd¬ 
ed  with  spectators,  and  the  several  questions 
Who  is  he  ?  Where  did  he  come  from  ?  Is  he 
mad  ?  were  whispered  in  rapid  succession.  But 
Monsieur  Garrot  saw  nothing  hut  the  ceiling  of 
his  room — heard  nothing  hut  the  clarion  voice 
of  his  own  fiddle. 

I  was  amazed  at  his  abstraction — at  his  en¬ 
thusiasm;  and  yet  found  it  difficult  to  prevent 
myself  from  laughing  aloud.  He  fiddled  with 

F 


42  RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS. 

such  force  and  energy,  that  his  elbow  seemed  to 
move  like  a  whipsaw  driven  by  steam.  I  had 
no  idea  that  ’twas  in  the  power  of  a  single  in¬ 
strument  to  produce  such  a  tumult  of  sounds. 

The  Battle  of  Prague ,  roared  from  ten  “forty 
piazzas”  (as  Johnny  Robinson  used  to  call  them) 
would  be  a  mere  tinkling,  compared  with  this 
uproar  of  Mr.  Garrot’s  fiddle.  I  could  not  but 
confess,  that  in  variety,  force  and  compass,  he 
surpassed  even  my  okl  friend  Mr.  Giles.  This  is 
no  light  compliment.  A  greater,  indeed,  could 
not  in  sincerity  be  paid  to  the  most  celebrated 
performer. 

But  Mr.  Gregory,  at  length,  made  his  appear¬ 
ance,  and  as  he  worked  his  way  through  the 
crowd  at  the  door,  I  could  perceive  that  he  was 
not  only  angry,  but  a  little  frightened.  He  was 
about  to  speak  to  Mr.  Garrot,  but  Mr.  Garrot  was 
too  much  engaged  to  take  the  least  notice  of 
him;  he  therefore  addressed  himself  to  me,  and 
and  said — “For  God’s  sake,  Mr.  Jones,  what  is 
the  meaning  of  all  this?”  I  was  so  full  of 
laughter  that  I  could  not  speak,  and  of  course 
said  nothing.  He  then  turned  to  Mr.  Garrot, 
and  raised  his  hand  as  a  sign  for  him  to  stop. 
Now,  Mr.  Gregory  had  no  more  the  appearance 
of  an  inkeeper  than  he  had  of  an  emperor.  It 


RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS.  43 

was  natural,  therefore,  that  the  frenchman  should 
consider  him  as  an  intruder,  and  order  him  out 
of  the  room ;  which  he  did.  But  ’twas  in  french, 
which  he  perceived  Mr.  Gregory  did  not  under¬ 
stand.  He  therefore  collected  all  the  english  he 
was  master  of,  and  exclaimed,  in  an  offended 
tone — “Vat  you  vont?”  Mr.  Gregory  was  about 
to  reply,  when  monsieur,  waving  his  hand,  cried 
“  Go  vay !  go  vay !”  and  thereupon  commenced 
fiddling  fiercer  than  ever.  This  produced  a  uni¬ 
versal  hurst  of  laughter;  and  so  loud  and  long 
was  the  peal,  (in  which  I  was  compelled  to  join,) 
that  monsieur  paused,  and  seemed  now,  for  the 
first  time,  to  he  sensible  that  there  was  an  unu¬ 
sual  collection  in  the  hall,  and  that  something 
was  wrong  somewhere. 

The  scene  at  this  moment  was  picturesque  in 
the  highest  degree.  There  stood  Mr.  Garrot,  in 
the  middle  of  the  room,  with  his  fiddle  in  his 
hand ;  his  pantaloons  hanging  upon  a  chair,  and 
his  morning  gown  floating  behind  him ;  looking 
first  at  Mr.  Gregory,  then  at  me,  then  at  the 
cluster  of  heads  at  the  door,  utterly  at  a  loss  to 
to  know  what  it  all  meant.  There  stood  Mr. 
Gregory,  too,  in  his  neat  drab-colored  coat  and 
Sunday  inexpressibles,  the  very  impersonation  of 
order,  decency  and  decorum,  looking  at  the 


44 


RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS. 


brawney,  half  naked  frenchman,  with  wonder 
and  snrpise.  There,  too,  was  the  crowd  of  cu¬ 
rious  faces,  male  and  female,  peering  in  at  the 
hall  door;  exhibiting  every  variety  of  expression, 
from  the  most  serious  to  the  most  comic ;  all 
staring  in  profound  silence,  at  the  frenchman  and 
his  fiddle.  It  was  ridiculous  enough;  and  had 
it  continued  a  moment  longer,  it  would  have 
been  discreditable  too.  At  my  suggestion,  Mr. 
Gregory  left  the  room.  I  then  closed  the  door, 
and  endeavored  to  explain  to  Mr.  Garrot  the 
cause  of  the  collection  in  the  hall,  and  the  mo¬ 
tives  of  the  individual  who  had  interrupted  him, 
But  I  found  it  difficult  to  make  him  comprehend 
it ;  for  I  was  not  a  little  puzzled  myself  to  shape 
the  matter  in  such  a  way  as  to  render  the  expla¬ 
nation  satisfactory,  as  well  as  plausible.  At 

* 

length  he  seemed  to  understand  it;  and  taking 
out  his  tablets,  wrote  down  what  I  suppose  he 
considered  the  substance  of  my  explanation,  and 
then  handed  it  to  me  to  read.  It  ran  thus:  — 
“Americans  have  very  little  taste  for  music,  and 
never  listen  with  pleasure  to  the  violin  on  Sun¬ 
days,  except  in  church  /” 

’  Tis  very  well,  said  I,  monsieur;  ’tis  very  well. 

Half  an  hour  afterwards,  we  walked  deliber¬ 
ately  down  stairs,  and  took  our  seats  at  the  tea 


RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS.  45 

table,  as  carelessly  and  as  composedly,  as  if  no¬ 
thing  had  happened.  But  I  observed,  what  Mon¬ 
sieur  Garrot  probably  did  not,  that  every  eye  in 
the  room  was  occasionally  turned  upon  him. 
Though  in  one  sense  the  author  of  the  mischief, 
and  certainly  the  most  censurable  of  the  two, 
yet  I  received  the  thanks  of  Mr.  Gregory,  for  ha¬ 
ving  put  an  end  to  the  confusion  occasioned  by 
the  musical  taste  of  Monsieur  Garrot. 


In  looking  back  to  the  period  of  1801,  nothing 
impresses  itself  upon  my  mind  more  forcibly, 
than  the  degeneracy  of  the  race  of  great  men. 
What  a  difference  between  the  leading  politicians 
of  that  day  and  this!  between  Thomas  Jefferson, 
for  instance,  and  John  Tyler!  If  we  continue 
to  go  down  hill  at  this  rate,  where,  I  would  ask, 
shall  we  be  likely  to  find  ourselves  at  the  end  of 
the  next  half  century? 

But  this  is  leading  us  off  the  track:  let  us  go 
back  to  the  Tontine.  It  is  near  the  breakfast 
hour  and  the  city  boarders,  I  perceive,  are  already 
dropping  in.  That  well-dressed,  handsome-faced 
gentleman  standing  upon  the  stoop,  with  his  hat 
under  his  arm  and  a  ratan  in  his  hand,  is  Mr. 
James  Kane,  of  whom  you  have  heard  me  speak 


46  RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS. 

so  frequently.  The  tall,  spare  man,  with  whom 
he  is  conversing,  is  Mr.  Walter  Clark,  a  merchant 
of  the  city,  plain  and  simple  in  his  character  and 
manner,  hut  polite  and  gentlemanly.  The  person 
that  has  just  joined  them,  is  an  exceedingly 
clever  man  in  his  way  —  a  little  self-complacent, 
perhaps,  but  a  gentleman  and  a  wit :  the  latter 
he  inherited,  among  other  goods  and  chattels, 
from  his  father,  who  had  a  great  deal  more,  by 
the  by,  than  he  bequeathed  to  any  one.  He  is, 
as  you  perceive,  extremely  civil  and  polite ;  hut 
it  is  rather  because  he  deems  it  due  to  himself, 
than  to  others.  His  wit,  though  perfectly  good- 
natured,  is  not  scattered  at  random.  It  has  its 
mark,  and  is  always  intended  to  tell.  But  not¬ 
withstanding  this  piquancy,  and  self  appreciation, 
he  is  a  clever  companion,  particularly  over  a  bot¬ 
tle  of  good  madeira.  His  fine  rosy  face  shows 
this.  In  short,  among  the  gentlemen  of  the  Ton¬ 
tine,  Mr.  Caldwell  holds  no  second  rank. 

That  young  man  standing  in  the  centre  of  the 
group  on  the  left,  is  a  Mr.  - - *,  somewhat  re¬ 

markable  for  his  flow  of  spirits  and  'fluency  of 
speech.  He  has  acquired  some  reputation  in  the 
city,  as  a  business  man,  and  is  quite  a  favorite 
with  Mr.  Kane.  He  is  said  to  be  something  of 
a  reader  too,  and,  by  the  aid  of  a  retentive  me- 


RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS.  47 

mory,  sustains  himself  in  the  midst  of  a  class  of 
young  men,  much  better  educated  than  himself. 
He  has  a  disposition  to  satire,  which  he  frequent¬ 
ly  indulges  at  the  expense  of  others,  hut  without 
any  taint  of  malignity.  In  his  open  and  some¬ 
what  random  mode  of  talking,  he  certainly  says 
some  things,  and  tells  some  truths,  which  it 
would  be  difficult  tor  any  other  person  to  utter 
without  giving  offence.  He  has  the  advantage, 
too,  of  being  older,  if  not  abler,  than  he  looks ; 
and,  under  the  guise  of  a  frank  and  heedless 
manner,  is  keenly  observant  of  the  conduct  and 
character  of  those  around  him.  I  have  no  doubt 
that  he  has,  at  this  moment,  in  his  portfolio,  a 
full  length  portrait,  not  only  of  many  of  his  per¬ 
sonal  friends  and  acquaintances,  hut  of  most  of 
the  distinguished  men  of  the  State.  But  he  is 
no  scholar,  and  cannot  give  to  his  sketches  an 
abiding  interest. 

That  plain  but  gentlemanly  looking  man,  now 
talking  with  Mr.  Kane,  is  Mr.  Sedgwick,  a  mem¬ 
ber  of  the  bar,  and  one  of  the  most  promising 
young  men  in  the  city.  His  character  may  be 
read  in  his  countenance :  in  which,  I  think,  you 
may  also  read  that  he  is  from  Massachusetts. 
He  brings  with  him  the  advantages  of  family 
reputation,  character,  and  talents;  and  sustains 


48  RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS. 

these  antecedents  by  personal  merit,  purity  of 
mind,  and  cleverness  of  manner.  He  is  the  pro¬ 
fessional  partner  of  Mr.  Harmanus  Bleecker,  a 
gentleman  of  sterling  merit,  and  withal  the  best 
dutch  scholar  in  the  city. 

By  the  by  —  but  let  us  walk  on — it  has  often 
occurred  to  me,  that  next  to  the  good  fortune  of 
being  born  ivhite,  or,  in  other  words,  of  not  being 
born  a  squalid  esquimaux  on  the  frozen  coast  of 
Labrador,  nor  yet  a  woolly-pated  negro,  in  the 
burning  wilds  of  Senegambia  —  next,  I  repeat, 
to  this  good  fortune,  is  that  of  having  been  born 
in  a  Christian  country,  and  of  a  good  family.  He 
that  does  not  appreciate  his  escape  from  the 
wretched  condition  of  savage  life  or  slavish  ne- 
groism,  and  is  not  impressed  with  the  advantages 
of  Christian  nativity  and  family  distinction,  has 
no  sense  of  indebtedness  to  providence,  or  no 
feeling  of  gratitude  in  him.  In  using  the  term 
good  family ,  I  have  no  reference  to  wealth; 
for  wealth,  as  we  all  know,  is  not  only  within 
the  reach,  but  often  in  the  possession  of  the 
meanest  of  mankind.  A  good  family,  in  the  or¬ 
dinary  sense  of  the  phrase,  is  a  family  of  good 
character,  distinguished  for  talent  or  patriotism, 
or  at  least  free  from  the  touch  or  taint  of  dishon¬ 
or.  By  way  of  illustration,  permit  me  to  say, 


RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS.  49 

that  had  my  ancestors,  upon  either  side,  been 
tories  of  the  revolution,  I  should  never  have 
ventured  to  boast  of  my  descent  from  a  good 
family:  on  the  contrary,  I  should  have  consid¬ 
ered  the  toryism  as  a  stain  upon  the  family  es¬ 
cutcheon,  which  it  would  require  the  patriotism 
of  at  least  two  generations  to  wipe  out.  But  this, 
you  will  say,  is  a  compound  of  pride  and  preju¬ 
dice.  It  may  he  so ;  hut  the  pride  is  of  that 
species  which  has  some  dignity  in  it,  and  the 
prejudice  is  of  that  family  of  the  plant  which  is 
worth  cultivating. 

Pride,  my  dear  madam,  is  a  more  powerful 
passion  of  the  mind  than  ambition  itself.  The 
one  may  lead  us  to  seek  the  bubble  reputation, 
even  in  the  cannon’s  mouth;  but  the  other  cross¬ 
es  and  controls  the  vicious  impulses  of  our  na¬ 
ture,  steps  in  between  the  tempter  and  the  crime, 
holds  back  the  hand  from  the  forbidden  fruit,  and 
balks  the  devil  in  his  efforts  to  corrupt  us. — 
Though  in  no  degree  allied  to  morality  or  prin¬ 
ciple,  yet  it  often  operates  in  conjunction  with 
them,  and  not  unfrequently  supplies  their  total 
absence.  It  must  be  remembered  that  we  are 
not  all  armed  alike;  and  in  this  warfare  with 
evil,  it  becomes  us  to  make  use  of  such  arms  as 
we  possess. 

<J 


50  RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS. 

But  this  is  a  digression — let  us  go  back  to  our 
reminiscences, 

THE  MARQUIS  DU  BARRAILLE. 

Among  other  waifs  upon  the  common  of  life, 
with  which  I  came  in  contact  in  those  days,  was 
an  old  and  veritable  french  Marquis,  by  the  name 
of  Du  Barraille.  He  was  one  of  those  unfortu¬ 
nate  loyalists  who  were  driven  into  exile  by  the 
french  revolution.  He  held  the  commission  and 
rank  of  Colonel  in  the  King’s  Guards,  and  had 
fled  his  country  with  nothing  but  loyalty  in  his 
head,  and  nothing  but  the  order  of  St.  Louis  in  his 
pocket.  He  had  wandered  through  the  West 
India  Islands,  thence  through  the  Canadas,  and 
finally  found  his  way  through  Lake  Champlain 
and  the  head  waters  of  the  Hudson,  down  to 
Albany.  By  this  time,  his  resources  were  com¬ 
pletely  exhausted,  every  trinket  had  been  put  in 
requisition  —  his  gold  snuff  box,  his  diamond 
ring,  even  his  sword,  as  he  said,  had  been  pledg¬ 
ed  to  the  brokers  or  pawned  to  the  Jews.  The 
cross  of  St.  Louis  he  had  received  from  the  hand 
of  his  royal  master,  and  therefore  could  not  part 
with  it  without  dishonor.  While  in  the  West 
Indies,  he  had,  probably  with  a  view  to  mend 


RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS.  51 

his  fortunes,  married  the  daughter  of  a  wealthy 
planter ;  but  owing  to  some  eruption  or  revolu¬ 
tion,  the  fortune  was  lost,  and  nothing  remained 
on  his  arrival  at  Albany,  save  the  aforesaid  cross 
of  St.  Louis,  Madame,  and  two  children!  The 
marquis  was  an  educated,  well  bred,  and  gentle¬ 
manly  man :  familiar  with  english  literature,  and 
spoke  the  language  sufficiently  well.  Madame 
could  boast  of  none  of  these  advantages.  She 
was  bred  upon  a  plantation,  and  spoke  no  lan¬ 
guage  but  the  creole.  Yet  she  was  a  respectable 
and  kind-hearted  woman. 

On  ascertaining  the  character  and  circumstan¬ 
ces  of  the  marquis,  the  young  gentlemen  of  the 
city  came  to  his  rescue.  ’Twas  evident  that  his 
only  resourse  was  to  open  a  school  and  teach  the 
french  language :  this  they  advised ;  and  to  ena¬ 
ble  him  to  carry  it  into  execution,  hired  a  house, 
furnished  it  themselves,  put  him  into  it,  and 
some  eight  or  ten  of  them  entered  their  names 
as  pupils  of  the  marquis,  and  boarders  at  the 
“Hotel  Hu  Barraille.”  But  with  the  exception 
of  one  or  two,  the  study  of  the  french  language 
formed  no  part  of  their  amusements.  The  prin¬ 
cipal  object  of  the  move,  was  to  keep  the  marquis 
from  starving,  and  in  doing  which  they  came 
pretty  near  starving  themselves ;  for  the  marquis 


52  RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS. 

had  never  been  in  the  commissary  department, 
and  was  rather  an  awkward  sort  of  landlord. 
They  stood  it,  however,  about  six  months,  and 
then  broke  up,  paid  the  rent  and  tuition  for  the 
year,  and  returned  to  the  Tontine,  from  whence 
they  came,  with  as  little  parlevous  in  them  as 
they  had  when  they  left  it.  Those  six  months, 
however,  were  by  no  means  thrown  away.  They 
were,  in  fact,  the  most  memorable  in  the  annals 
of  their  lives :  never  before,  were  there  so  many 
events  and  circumstances,  so  much  fun  and 
frolic,  so  much  poetry,  music  and  eloquence, 
crowded  into  such  a  narrow  space  of  time. — 
Every  language  was  studied  in  the  school  but 
the  french,  and  every  art  was  practised  in  the 
kitchen  but  the  art  of  cooking.  If  that  which 
was  contemplated  was  never  done,  much  cer¬ 
tainly  was  done  that  was  never  contemplated. 
But  with  all  their  whims  and  irregularities,  the 
old  marquis  was  proud  of  his  pupils,  and  fond  of 
their  company ;  though  he  preferred  claret,  he 
had  no  particular  antipathy  to  a  glass  of  madeira. 
We  had,  of  course,  the  history  of  the  revolution 
over  and  over,  with  anecdotes  of  distinguished 
characters,  civil  and  military.  But  what  amu¬ 
sed  us  most,  was  the  gravity  with  which  the  Old 
Loyalist  would  talk  of  the  “restoration  of  the 


RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS.  53 

Bourbons.”  He  spoke  of  it  as  though  it  was  a 
matter  of  course,  waiting  only  the  destined  hour. 
And  all  this  too,  at  the  very  time  when  Napoleon 
was  master  of  more  than  half  of  Europe ;  when 
thrones,  and  crowns,  and  principalities,  and  pow¬ 
ers,  were  made  and  unmade  by  a  dash  of  his 
pen,  or  the  word  of  his  mouth !  We  laughed  in 
our  sleeves  at  what  we  considered  the  old  man’s 
folly:  and  the  “restoration  of  the  Bourbons,” 
became  a  jest  and  a  bye  word.  And  yet,  “  tell 
it  not  in  Gath,”  the  Bourbons  were  restored,  and 
the  old  marquis,  as  he  always  believed  he  should, 
returned  to  France !  But,  before  that  joyous  hour 
had  arrived,  his  resources  were  exhausted  and 
his  fortunes  had  fallen  to  their  lowest  ebb.  The 
greater  part  of  his  scholars  had  never  entered  his 
school  room,  and  had  now  ceased  to  pay.  The 
“  Hotel  Hu  Barraille”  was  of  course  abandoned, 
and  he  rented  a  small  house  in  a  cheap  and  dirty 
street  in  the  purlieus  of  Fox  creek. 

Thither  I  followed  him.  For,  amid  the  fun 
and  frolic  of  the  first  six  months,  I  had  barely 
learned  to  read  and  translate  the  language.  I 
now  proposed  to  learn,  if  possible,  to  speak  it: 
since  I  was  now  the  only  pupil,  and  the  only 
boarder.  The  house  was  a  wretched  tenement ; 
and  the  fare,  I  knew,  would  be  still  worse.  My 


54  RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS. 

bill  of  board  and  tuition  was  his  only  means  of 
support.  But  madame  was  an  able  economist; 
and  one  piece  of  meat,  generally,  carried  us 
through  the  week.  The  fare  was  arranged  as 
follows:  On  Monday ,  we  had  the  rib  or  joint, 
roasted;  Tuesday ,  the  remains  of  Monday  were 
served  up  nearly  as  good  as  new;  Wednesday , 
the  fragments  were  converted  into  a  most  pala¬ 
table  hash;  Thursday,  the  hash  was  warmed 
over;  Friday,  the  bones  furnished  a  rich  soup; 
Saturday,  the  soup  was  warmed  over;  and  on 
Sunday  —  I  dined  out  —  and  the  family  had,  what 
madame  called,  a  picked  up  dinner,  as  she  was 
religiously  opposed  to  cooking  much  on  that 
day. 

The  breakfast,  in  the  natural  order  of  things, 
should  have  been  mentioned  first.  It  consisted 
of  coffee  made  of  parched  peas  or  oats,  stale 
baker’s  bread,  and  one  small  scotch  herring  for 
each  person.  The  herring  was  the  life  and  soul 
of  the  meal.  How  often  did  I  wish  it  had  plea¬ 
sed  the  Marchioness  or  the  Gods,  to  have  allowed 
us  two  instead  of  one.  But  each  made  the  most 
of  the  one  he  had.  I  used  to  begin  at  one  end 
of  mine,  (it  was  immaterial  which,)  and  grind 
it  to  powder,  swallowing  every  particle,  head  and 
tail,  bones,  fins,  gills  and  gizzard  !  Not  one  atom 


RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS.  55 

was  left  to  tell  the  story  that  a  herring  had  ever 
touched  my  plate.  No  indigestion  followed :  no 
one,  while  hoarding  with  the  marquis,  was  ever 
troubled  with  the  dispepsia! 

The  tea  was  a  dish  of  hot  water  colored  with 
brown  sugar,  and  a  crust  of  dry  bread  without 
butter.  Yet  I  never  heard  a  complaint.  On  the. 
contrary,  I  often  complimented  madame,  myself, 
upon  the  richness  of  her  coffee,  and  the  fine  fla¬ 
vor  of  her  tea !  Never,  I  believe,  since  the  ex¬ 
pulsion  of  Adam  from  the  Garden  of  Eden  — 
never,  I  am  certain,  since  the  children  of  Israel 
fed  upon  manna  in  the  wilderness,  did  a  family 
live  at  so  little  expense,  and  at  the  same  time 
make  so  respectable  a  show. 

The  old  marquis  himself,  though  his  whole 
wardrobe  would  not  have  sold  for  five  shillings, 
appeared  to  be  dressed  in  the  style  of  a  french 
nobleman,  so  well  did  any  thing  and  every  thing 
become  him.  Kate,  a  very  pretty  American  girl 
not  over  sixteen  years  of  age,  was  his  cook  and 
laundress,  his  steward,  butler,  barber,  chamber¬ 
maid  and  footman !  A  single  room,  of  about 
twelve  by  sixteen,  served  the  whole  family,  my¬ 
self  excepted,  for  a  kitchen,  sitting-room,  wash¬ 
room  and  bed-room.  Yes,  in  that  room  of  all 
rooms,  in  which  the  washing,  cooking  and  dress- 


56  RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS. 

ing  was  done,  slept  the  marquis,  madame,  two 
children,  Kate  and  Caesar !  Caesar,  by  the  by, 
was  the  marquis’s  dog;  and  a  more  loyal  brute 
never  lived.  Like  the  marquis,  he  had  the  po- 
litesse,  the  air  and  dignity  of  the  ancient  regime. 
The  marchioness  never  dined  with  the  family, 
except  on  Sunday,  when  there  was  no  company, 
and  nothing  to  eat :  hut  at  breakfast  and  at  tea, 
she  made  her  appearance  in  a  style  that  would 
have  astonished  the  mother  of  mankind.  The 
marquis,  too,  always  came  forth,  fresh  as  a 
bridegroom ;  his  hoots  neatly  polished,  his  hair 
powdered,  his  coat  brushed  and  buttoned,  and 
his  hat  under  his  arm,  both  (marquis  and  hat) 
looking  as  good  as  new.  Knowing,  as  I  could 
not  hut  know,  the  character  and  condition  of  the 
apartment  from  which  they  issued,  it  was  diffi¬ 
cult  to  conceive  by  what  means  such  neatness 
and  elegance  of  appearance  could  he  so  sudden¬ 
ly  produced.  On  questioning  Kate  about  the 
matter,  she  confessed  that  ’twas  the  work  of  her 
own  hands:  that  she  polished  the  boots  with  the 
end  of  a  candle ;  and  that  the  powder  with  which 
she  dusted  the  Marquis’s  head,  was  nothing  but 
indian  meal;  that  she  brushed  the  coat,  rubbed 
the  buttons,  and  fixed  the  cravat;  and  then  ad¬ 
justed  the  ruffles  of  madame.  But  enough  of  this. 


RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS.  57 

I  continued  to  reside  in  the  family  for  more 
than  six  months,  in  despite  of  the  unpleasant 
location,  the  wretched  apartments  and  meagre 
fare.  The  thin  oat  coffee  and  spare  diet,  how¬ 
ever,  were  favorable  to  the  studies  I  pursued; 
and  I  therefore  particularly  recommend  them  to 
those  who  wish  to  acquire  a  just  knowledge  of 
human  nature,  or  a  correct  pronunciation  of  the 
french  language. 

I  now  present  the  reader  with  the  history  of 
the  last  night  I  passed  under  the  roof  of  the  old 
marquis,  in  this  his  last  place  of  residence  in  the 
city  of  Albany. 


THE  LAST  NIGHT. 

It  was  late  in  the  evening  before  I  left  the  mar¬ 
quis’s  little  room  below,  and  retired  to  my  own. 
I  had  been  listening,  as  usual,  to  the  tales  of  the 
revolution,  and  the  sufferings  of  the  emigrants, 
and  felt  no  disposition  to  sleep.  The  day  had 
been  extremely  hot,  and  the  air  was  close  and 
sultry.  On  opening  my  window,  I  perceived  that 
a  thunderstorm  was  gathering  in  the  west,  and 
concluded  to  sit  up  till  ’twas  over.  In  the  mean¬ 
time  I  amused  myself  by  translating  passages 
from  the  Henriad,  and  trying  my  hand  at  turning 


58 


RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS. 


them  into  english  verse.  While  thus  engaged,  I 
was  startled  by  an  unusual  noise  and  agitation 
below.  I  could  distinctly  hear  the  voice  of  the 
marquis,  and  the  hasty  tread  of  feet  passing  from 
one  room  to  another.  I  was  aware  that  the 
youngest  child,  a  hoy  of  about  four  years  of  age, 
had  been  unwell  for  some  time ;  hut  as  no  idea 
had  been  entertained  that  he  was  in  any  imme¬ 
diate  danger,  I  concluded  that  some  accident  had 
happened,  or  that  some  disturbance  had  taken 
place  in  the  street.  But  in  less  than  a  minute 
came  a  shriek  from  the  marchioness,  accompanied 
by  the  terrifying  exclamation  of  “  Mon  Dieu !  Mon 
Dieu  !”  I  seized  the  light,  and  placing  it  at  the 
head  of  the  stairs,  hurried  down.  The  doors  were 
all  open ;  and  on  entering  the  room,  I  was  shock¬ 
ed  at  the  spectacle  it  presented.  There  was 
madame  with  her  clothes  half  torn  off  her  back — 
still  raving  and  tearing  the  hair  from  her  head. 
The  old  marquis  was  walking  about  the  room, 
half  distracted,  wringing  his  hands,  and  ejaculat¬ 
ing  “  Mon  pauvre  Louis !  Mon  pauvre  Louis !” 
Poor  Kate  sat  by  the  cradle,  crying  and  sobbing 
as  if  her  heart  would  break.  I  said  a  few  words 
to  the  marquis,  and  endeavored  to  express  my 
sympathy  to  madame ;  but  words  were  vain,  and 
sympathy,  though  recognized,  was  unavailing. 


RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS.  59 

I  walked  fearfully  to  the  cradle.  It  was  too  true : 
all  was  over ;  the  child  had  breathed  its  last.  Its 
look  was  awful.  It  lay  almost  entirely  naked, 
with  its  eyes  unclosed.  After  gazing  upon  it  for 
a  few  moments,  I  turned  to  leave  the  room,  for 
the  scene  was  too  painful  to  hear.  At  that  mo¬ 
ment  there  came  a  flash  of  lightning,  followed  by 
a  clap  of  thunder,  which  shook  the  house  to  its 
very  foundation.  Kate  turned  pale.  The  words 
“  Mon  Dieu !”  were  repeated  in  a  fearful  tone  by 
more  than  one  voice.  Even  old  Caesar  crawled 
out  from  under  the  table,  and  seating  himself 
upon  his  hind  legs,  pointed  his  nose  up  into  the 
air,  and  gave  one  of  the  most  prolonged  and 
mournful  howls  that  I  had  ever  heard.  It  was  with 
the  greatest  difficulty  that  I  could  keep  my  nerves 
steady.  I  would  have  given  a  kingdom,  if  I  had 
had  one,  to  have  been  ten  miles  off.  I,  however, 
left  the  room  slowly,  and  had  but  just  regained 
my  chamber,  when  a  large  cat,  with  eyes  as  big 
as  saucers,  poked  her  head  into  the  room,  and 
looking  me  wildly  in  the  face,  gave  one  of  the 
most  infernal  yoivls  that  was  ever  heard  by  mortal 
ears  !  Where  the  devil  she  came  from,  nobody 
knew.  This  brought  old  Caesar  out  again,  and 
another  howl  was  set  up :  another  flash  of  light¬ 
ning,  and  another  peal  of  thunder  followed. 


60  RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS. 

Father  Abraham!  said  I.  But  my  imagination 
was  getting  wild,  I  began  to  look  upon  it  as  the 
last  night,  or  as  the  foreshadowing  type  of  the  last 
day !  Gradually,  however,  the  Heavens  became 
more  quiet,  and  the  sounds  of  woe  less  and  less 
audible.  At  length  the  morning  broke :  the  sun 
came  forth  in  the  east ;  and  the  world  was  again 
radiant  with  light,  and  life,  and  beauty. 

T.  gave  Kate  some  necessary  instructions,  and 
leaving  the  house  buried  in  profound  repose, 
walked  deliberately  down  to  the  Tontine :  not 
exactly,  however,  in  that  mood  of  mind  in  which 
Adam  left  the  gates  of  paradise;  nor  with  the 
lingering  step  and  backward  look  with  which 
Lot’s  wife  left  the  rich  city  that  adorned  the  fruit¬ 
ful  plain  of  the  Pentapolis,  but  with  the  returning 
buoyancy  of  one  whose  spirits  had  been  depressed 
by  a  gloomy  tempest  and  a  night  of  horrors. 

A  few  years  afterwards  I  received  a  letter  from 
the  old  marquis,  dated  in  Paris.  But  his  long 
cherished  dream  of  restoration  to  rank,  friends 
and  fortune,  was  never  realized.  The  revolution 
had  engulphed  all  but  the  memory  of  the  past, 
and  he  literally  found  himself  a  stranger  in  the 
land  of  his  birth. 


Some  people  seem  to  imagine  that  all  man- 


RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS.  61 

kind  are  alike.  They  see  no  difference, — and  by 
way  of  proof  that  there  is  none,  they  will  tell  you 
that  every  individual  of  the  species  (unless  he  has 
lived  in  Mississippi)  has  two  eyes :  and  unless  he 
has  been  in  the  wars,  or  on  a  rail  road,  has  two 
arms  and  two  legs.  Beyond  these  fixtures  and  ap¬ 
pendages  they  never  look,  nevefffinquire.  They 
note  no  discrepancies,  no  peculiarities,  no  quips  of 
the  imagination,  no  crotchets  of  the  mind ;  and 
they  actually  go  through  life  without  ever  seeing 
any  thing  remarkable. 

Others  again,  though  fewer  in  number,  are  for¬ 
ever  on  the  lookout  for  novelties  and  diversities, — 
for  the  odd,  the  eccentric,  the  ludicrous ;  and  are 
singularly  successful  in  discovering  singular  forms 
and  combinations — peculiar  habits,  looks,  actions 
and  traits  of  character.  With  them,  no  two  things 
under  heaven  are  alike — no  two  men  hear  any 
resemblance  to  each  other,  or  to  any  body  else. 

To  which  of  these  two  classes  the  writer  of 
these  reminiscences  belongs,  I  leave  to  the  reader 
to  decide. 


Among  other  curious  subjects  that  attracted  my 
attention  during  the  early  part  of  my  residence  in 
Albany,  was  a  blind  old  man  led  about  the  streets 
by  his  colored  servant.  It  was 


G2  RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS. 


OLJ)  MR,  BANYAR. 

A  most  intelligent,  wealthy,  and  respectable  old 
gentleman.  He  was  the  most  perfect  type  of  the 
Anglo-American  then  living.  He  was  the  last  of  a 
race,  or  class  of  men,  now  totally  extinct — a  race, 
born  in  England,  grown  rich  in  America,  proud 
of  their  birth,  and  prouder  of  their  fortune. 

He  had  been  a  secretary  of  state  under  the  co¬ 
lonial  government,  and  at  the  breaking  out  of  the 
war  of  the  revolution,  very  naturally,  and  the 
prospect  considered,  very  wisely,  took  sides  (but 
not  arms)  with  the  mother  country.  He  was  a 
royalist  in  feeling,  and  doubtless  in  principle — the 
feeling ,  it  is  believed,  underwent  no  change ;  the 
principle,  in  the  course  of  time,  became  temperate¬ 
ly,  and  I  may  add,  judiciously,  modified  by  his 
interests.  He  had,  while  in  his  office  of  secre¬ 
tary,  obtained  from  the  crown  many  large  and 
valuable  tracts  of  land.  These  lands  were  the 
sources  of  his  wealth.  With  the  eye  of  intelli¬ 
gence,  sharpened  by  the  peculiarity  of  his  position, 
he  watched  the  course  of  events,  and  like  a  skilful 
pilot,  steered  between  the  extremes.  He  wisely 
kept  a  friend  in  either  port,  and  had  always  an  an¬ 
chor  out  to  windward.  In  short,  he  preserved  his 
character  from  reproach,  on  the  other  side  of  the 


RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS.  63 

water,  and  his  lands  from  confiscation  on  this.  His 
mind  kept  pace  with  the  intelligence  of  the  age. 
He  became  an  American  when  America  became 
triumphant, — thought  better  of  republicanism  as 
it  approximated  to  power :  and  finally,  without 
abating  one  jot  of  his  love  for  the  land  of  his  birth, 
came  quietly  into  our  political  arena  under  the 
banner  of  Mr.  Jefferson !  In  all  this,  he  acted,  as 
we  think,  wisely  and  prudently.  He  was  no 
American  at  the  commencement  of  the  war,  hut 
an  Englishman,  horn  and  bred,  with  the  badges 
of  office  and  of  confidence  still  in  his  possession. 
Yet  he  took  no  part — gave  no  aid,  and  hut  little 
comfort  to  the  enemy,  for  when  secretly  applied 
to  for  advice,  he  sent  by  the  messenger  a  basket 
of  fruit — and  when  for  information,  the  return  was 
a  basket  of  eggs !  He  was,  therefore,  no  tory,  hut 
merely  a  judicious  politician :  in  which  charac¬ 
ter,  if  he  acquired  no  fame,  he  at  least  preserved 
his  reputation  and  his  property,  and  merited  the 
thanks  of  those  remembered  in  his  will. 

He  must  have  been  somewhere  about  three 
score  and  ten  years  of  age  when  I  first  saw  him 
in  the  streets  of  Albany.  He  was  a  short,  stout 
built  man,  English  alike  in  form,  in  character, 
and  in  aspect :  and  at  the  period  to  which  I  refer, 
infirm,  gouty,  and  nearly  blind;  but  still  sound 


64  RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS. 

in  mind  and  venerable  in  appearance.  The 
colored  servant  by  whom  he  was  led,  was  no 
unimportant  personage.  He  was  his  man-friday 
— his  man  Peter — his  all  in  all — for  without  his 
aid,  locomotion  was  impossible.  What  was  not 
a  little  remarkable,  was  the  fact,  that  Peter  re¬ 
sembled  his  master  in  almost  every  particular, 
save  his  gout  and  his  blindness.  He  was  of  the 
same  height  and  make,  as  well  dressed,  nearly  as 
old,  and  quite  as  grey.  He  was,  moreover,  as 
independent,  as  important  and  as  irritable.  At  a 
little  distance,  it  was  indeed  difficult  to  tell  which 
was  master  and  which  was  man. 

Nothing  eould  be  more  amusing  than  their 
conversation  and  disputes  when  moving  together, 
arm  in  arm,  down  Pearl-street  and  across  State, 
to  Lewis’s  tavern, — a  haunt,  to  which  they  re¬ 
sorted  daily,  whenever  the  weather  would  permit. 
It  was  indeed  the  haunt  of  a  good  many  other 
distinguished  individuals  of  those  days.  All  the 
quid  nuncs,  news  mongers,  segar  smokers,  and 
back-gammon  players,  together  with  a  long  list 
of  worthies,  who  were  constitutionally  thirsty 
between  twelve  and  one  o’clock,  made  Lewis’s 
their  head  quarters.  Could  the  old  gentleman 
have  seen  all  the  company  there  assembled, 
listened  to  their  language,  and  witnessed  their 


RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS.  65 

libations  at  the  bar,  he  would  probably  have 
relished  their  society  something  less  than  he  did. 

But,  be  that  as  it  may — in  his  frequent  peregri¬ 
nations  to  and  from  that  celebrated  tavern,  it  was 
my  special  pleasure  (boy  like)  to  throw  myself  a 
few  paces  in  his  rear,  and  listen  to  the  dialogue 
that  was  sure  to  take  place  between  him  and  his 
man  Peter.  It  was  generally  in  a  pretty  sharp 
tone  of  voice,  and  almost  always  upon  a  dis- 
putacious  key.  In  crossing  State-street  one 
day,  on  their  return  from  Lewis’s,  it  commenced 
thus: — Peter,  said  the  old  man,  you’re  leading 
me  into  the  mud.  There’s  no  mud  here,  says 
Peter.  But  I  say  there  is,  retorted  the  old  man 
fiercely.  I  say  there  aint,  said  Peter.  D — n  it, 
sir,  said  the  old  man,  giving  his  arm  a  twitch 
and  coming  to  a  full  halt,  don’t  you  suppose  I 
know  the  nature  of  the  ground  on  which  I 
stand?  No,  says  Peter,  don’t  spose  you  know 
any  such  thing;  you  ony  stept  one  foot  off  the 
stones,  that’s  all.  Well,  well,  come  along  then; 
what  do  you  keep  me  standing  here  in  the  street 
for?  I  don’t  keep  you,  said  Peter;  you  keep  your¬ 
self.  Well,  well,  come  along,  said  the  old  man, 
and  let  me  know  when  I  come  to  the  gutter.  You 
are  in  the  gutter  now,  said  Peter.  The  devil  I 
am !  said  the  old  man;  then  pausing  a  moment, 

I 


66  RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS. 

he  added,  in  a  sort  of  moralizing  tone,  there’s  a 
worse  gutter  than  this  to  cross,  I  can  tell  you, 
Peter.  If  there  be,  said  Peter,  I  should  like  to 
know  where  ’tis;  I  have  seen,  continued  Peter, 
every  gutter  in  town,  from  the  ferry  stairs  to  the 
Patroons,  and  there  aint  a  worse  one  among  ’em 
all.  But  the  gutter  I  mean,  said  the  old  gentle¬ 
man  in  a  lower  tone,  is  one  which  you  cross  in  a 
boat,  Peter.  ’Tis  strange,  said  Peter,  that  I  should 
never  have  found  it  out ; —  now,  lift  your  foot  high¬ 
er,  or  you’ll  hit  the  curb  stone,  —  cross  a  gutter  in 
a  boat!  ejaculated  Peter,  ’tis  nonsense.  ’Tis  so 
written  down,  said  the  old  man.  Written  down, 
said  Peter;  the  newspapers  may  write  what  they 
please,  hut  I  don’t  believe  a  word  on’t.  I’m 
thinking  said  the  old  man,  they  put  too  much 
brandy  in  their  toddy  there  at  Lewis’s.  I  thought 
so  too,  said  Peter,  when  you  were  getting  off  the 
steps  at  the  door;  and  since  you’ve  mentioned 
that  boat,  I’m  sure  of  it.  What  is  that  you  say  ? 
said  the  old  man,  coming  to  a  halt  again,  and 
squaring  himself  round ;  you  thought  so,  did  you  ? 
what  right  had  you  to  think  any  thing  about  it  ? 
I  tell  you,  Peter,  you  are  a  fool ! 

The  attitude  and  appearance  of  the  parties  at 
this  moment  was  so  whimsical  —  in  fact,  so 
ridiculous,  that  I  could  not  restrain  myself  from 


RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS.  67 

laughing  aloud.  Who  is  that  ?  said  the  old  man, 
taking  quietly  hold  of  Peter’s  arm  again.  Don’t 
know  him,  said  Peter ;  spose  he’s  one  of  the  new 
comers.  Ne  w  comers  !  said  the  old  man,  repeat¬ 
ing  the  phrase.  Is  he  old  or  young,  Peter  ?  Young, 
said  Peter.  Then  I forgive  him,  said  the  old  man ; 
and  after  a  short  pause,  added  in  a  lower  tone  of 
voice,  may  he  never  know  the  misfortune  of  blindness 
or  the  gout.  Never  in  the  course  of  my  life  did  I 
feel  so  ashamed  of  myself  as  at  that  moment.  A 
blow  from  a  cane  could  not  have  hurt  me  half 
as  much.  My  first  thought  was  to  walk  directly 
up  to  him,  take  him  by  the  hand  and  make  him 
an  ample  apology.  But  to  entertain  a  just  sense 
of  what  we  ought  to  do,  is  one  thing — to  do  it, 
quite  another.  In  the  present  case,  I  was  appre¬ 
hensive  that  my  apology  might  not  be  accepted ; 
besides,  it  was  not  at  his  infirmities  I  laughed, 
but  at  the  singular  oddity  of  the  scene.  I  ima¬ 
gined,  moreover,  that  Jeremiah  himself,  had  he 
been  present,  would  have  laughed  at  the  ridicu¬ 
lous  dialogue  and  still  more  ridiculous  attitudes 
of  the  parties. 

It  is  impossible,  I  think,  to  reflect  one  moment 
upon  the  position  which  Mr.  Banyar  occupied  dur¬ 
ing  the  war  of  the  revolution,  and  the  manner 
in  which  he  sustained  himself  in  it,  without 


68  RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS. 

conceding  to  him  a  thorough  knowledge  of  the 
world,  great  sagacity  and  great  address.  It  is 
said  hy  those  who  knew  him  personally,  that 
his  manners  were  those  of  a  gentleman,  and 
that  he  possessed  no  ordinary  share  of  talent  and 
of  wit. 

Among  other  curious  things  that  attracted  my 
attention  in  the  ancient  city  of  Albany,  just  prior 
to  the  extinction  of  the  dutch  dynasty,  was  the 
disproportionate  number  of  old  people.  Pearl- 
street  in  particular,  was  lined  with  these  remnants 

of  the  olden  days.  The  population  of  the  city 

» 

was  evidently  undergoing  a  thorough  revolution. 
One  whole  generation — nay,  one  whole  race,  was 
then  on  the  very  eve  of  passing  away,  while  ano¬ 
ther,  of  an  entirely  different  character  and  aspect 
was  coming  in.  But  the  most  attractive  pictures 
to  my  eye,  were  the  aged  members  of  the  retir¬ 
ing  race. 

Could  Solomon  have  paid  a  visit  to  Albany  in 
1803  or  4,  he  would  have  acknowledged  (notwith¬ 
standing  his  former  assertion  to  the  contrary,)  that 
there  were  many  things  “  new  under  the  sun.” 
He  would,  I  think,  have  found  something  to 
admire  as  new  and  original,  even  in  the  antique 
though  unclassic  model  of 


RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS.  69 


OLD  MR,  LYDIUS, 

This  old  gentleman,  if  tradition  may  he  relied 
on,  was  something  of  a  lion  in  his  day.  He  was 
unusually  tall,  raw-boned,  and  of  a  most  forbid¬ 
ding  aspect — singular  in  his  habits,  and  eccentric 
in  his  character — hut  independent,  honest,  and 
gruff  as  a  hear.  He  occupied  at  the  commence¬ 
ment  of  the  present  century,  the  old,  and  some¬ 
what  mysterious  looking  mansion,  then  standing 
at  the  south-east  corner  of  North  Pearl  and  State- 
street  :  and  was  of  course  next  door  neighbor,  in 
an  easterly  line,  to  the  old  elm  tree.  The  house 
exhibited  in  its  style  and  order  the  taste  if  not  the 
pride  of  its  proprietor.  Its  position  admitted  of 
hvo  front  gables,  and  two  front  gables  it  had ;  thus 
rivaling,  if  not  excelling  in  architectural  dignity, 
the  celebrated  mansion  of  the  Van  der  Hey  den 
family.  One  front  rested  on  Pearl,  the  other  on 
State.  Each  had  its  full  complement  of  outside 
decorative  adjuncts — namely,  long  spouts  from 
the  eaves,  little  benches  at  the  door,  iron  figures 
on  the  wall,  and  a  rooster  on  the  gable  head. 
How  the  inside  was  contrived,  nobody  knew.  The 
only  inhabitants,  or  at  least  the  only  ones  that  my 
curiosity  could  ever  discover,  were  the  dark  and 
indomitable  proprietor,  and  an  old,  unmutilated, 


70  RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS. 

pale-faced,  melancholy-looking  cat.  Nor  were 
these  visible  to  any  human  eye  except  at  particu¬ 
lar  hours,  or  under  peculiar  circumstances. 

At  the  dusky  hour  of  eve,  or  in  the  misty  gray 
of  the  morning,  the  head,  or  what  was  taken  to 
he  the  head,  of  the  old  man,  was  sometimes  seen 
peering  out  of  the  narrow  window  in  the  southern 
front;  while  the  low,  complaining  voice  of  the 
other  inhabitant  (when  darkness  covered  the 
land,)  might  he  distinctly  heard  from  the  turret  of 
the  western  wing.  No  door  was  ever  seen  to 
open — no  twinkling  light  gave  sign  of  life  within. 
Even  in  the  day  time,  its  dreary  aspect  conjured 
up  the  idea  of  trap-doors  and  dungeons.  At  night, 
I  never  passed  it  without  quickening  my  pace  and 
looking  sharply  about  me.  Yet  from  the  tax 
gatherer  I  learned  that  Mr.  Lydius  was  a  man  of 
property;  and  the  corporation,  as  a  testimonial  of 
his  virtues,  caused  his  name  to  he  painted  on  a 
little  board  and  fastened  up  at  the  corner  of  a 
street  in  the  southern  section  of  the  city. 

It  is  not  improbable  that  his  shade  is  at  this 
moment  wandering  along  the  sea-resounding 
dikes  in  the  land  of  his  ancestors — the  once  proud 
and  heroic  Holland ! 


RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS. 


71 


THE  VISIT, 

Nothing  could  have  been  more  appropriate  than 
the  Christian  name  given  to  these  reminiscences, 
since  it  authorizes  the  writer  to  go  backward  or 
forward,  up  or  down,  to  the  right  or  left,  whichev¬ 
er  way  the  capriciousness  of  memory  may  incline. 
It  relieves  him,  moreover,  from  the  necessity  of 
observing  the  chronological  order  of  events,  or  of 
paying  indeed  any  sort  of  regard  to  time,  other 
than  to  keep  within  the  limits  prescribed,— name¬ 
ly — the  first  eight  years  of  the  nineteenth  century. 

Passing  down  North  Pearl-street,  the  next  day 
after  my  arrival  in  the  city,  in  company  with  my 
friend,  Col.  Elisha  Jenkins,  (with  whom  I  had  been 
examining  the  topography,  antiquities  and  archi¬ 
tectural  curiosities  of  the  town,)  he  proposed  to  call 
and  see  an  old  friend  of  his,  whose  name  I  have 
forgotten,  hut  whose  residence  I  remember  was  on 
the  left  hand  side,  two  or  three  blocks  from  State- 
street.  It  was  to  my  eye  at  least,  a  queer  looking 
mansion.  It  had  all  the  venerable  marks  of  age, 
and  many  of  the  emblems  of  Amsterdam  stamped 
upon  its  face.  On  entering,  we  were  conducted 
by  a  colored  female  servant  through  a  long,  dark 
and  narrow  hall,  into  a  dimly  lighted  room  in  the 
rear.  The  host  struck  me  as  somewhat  typical 


72  RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS. 

of  the  mansion.  He  was  an  aged  gentleman, 
with  the  fashions  of  other  days  sufficiently  appa¬ 
rent  in  his  dress  and  address.  He  was  seated  in 
a  huge  arm  chair,  with  a  red  worsted  cap  on  his 
head,  a  long  loose  gown  or  robe,  coming  down  to 
his  ancles,  silver  buckles  in  his  shoes,  and  one 
foot  swathed  in  flannel  resting  upon  a  stool. 

Though  frank  and  courteous  in  his  manner, 
there  was  yet  an  air  of  consequential  dignity  about 
him,  and  a  tone  of  authority  in  his  voice,  which 
would  have  suited  the  character  of  Henry  VIII. 
He  would  indeed  have  furnished  an  excellent 
subject  for  the  pencil  of  Hans  Holbein.  The  furred 
robe,  the  buckles  and  the  red  cap,  would  have 
made  a  figure  in  one  of  Hans’s  pictures. 

There  were  several  gentlemen  in  the  room  at 
the  time  of  our  entrance,  and  one  or  two  more 
dropped  in  afterwards.  The  principal  subject  of 
conversation  was  politics,  and  I  soon  perceived 
they  were  all  thorough  going  Jeffersonians.  The 
recent  triumph  of  their  party  had  put  them  in  high 
spirits.  But  I  was  particularly  struck  with  the 
tone  and  manner  of  the  old  gentleman.  I  had 
never  before  witnessed  so  much  freedom  and 
hilarity  tempered  with  so  much  courtesy.  Being 
a  mere  lad  at  the  time,  I  had  of  course  remained 
silent.  The  old  gentleman  perceiving  this,  turned 


RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS. 


73 


to  me  and  said,  well,  my  young  friend,  which  side 
are  you  ?  I  answered  that  I  was  not  much  of  a 
politician,  hut  had  made  up  my  mind  to  go  with 
the  majority.  Ah,  ha,  said  he,  older  heads  than 
yours  have  wisely  made  up  their  minds  to  pursue 
the  same  course.  This  I  thought  rather  a  hit  at 
my  friend  Col.  Jenkins,  who  had  hut  recently 
joined  the  dominant  party.  The  old  man  now 
turned  to  a  tall,  quiet  sort  of  personage,  who  had 
taken  no  part  in  the  conversation,  and  said  in  a 
loud  hut  familiar  tone,  Peter,  Peter,  we  are  be¬ 
coming  rather  dry,  make  us,  I  pray  you,  some¬ 
thing  to  drink,  Peter.  Peter  retired,  and  in  a  few 
minutes  returned  with  a  glass  pitcher,  (or  rather 
a  sort  of  two  quart  tumbler  with  a  handle  to  it,) 
filled  to  the  brim,  which  he  handed  to  the  old 
gentleman  first,  who  had  no  sooner  taken  a  swal¬ 
low  of  it  than  he  called  out,  Ah,  Peter,  Peter, 
you  have  made  this  'pretty  well  to  the  north ,  I  can 
tell  you ;  hut  hand  it  round,  Peter,  hand  it  round ; 
and  round  it  went,  each  one  taking  a  hearty  pull 
at  it.  When  it  came  to  my  turn,  it  did  not  pass 
untasted,  for  I  was  curious  to  know  what  it  was 
made  of;  so  I  took  a  tiff  by  way  of  gaining  know¬ 
ledge,  as  Eve  took  the  apple.  I  found  it  a  sort  of 
spiced  and  sugared  grog,  or  what,  I  believe,  the 
learned  in  such  matters  would  call  Rum  Toddy. 


74  RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS. 

This  was  the  first  time  I  had  ever  seen  a  com¬ 
pany  of  gentlemen  drink  out  of  the  same  cup. 
It  was  the  first  time,  too,  that  I  had  ever  heard 
the  phrase  of  “too  far  to  the  north”  used  as  a 
substitute  for  the  words  too  strong. 

But  I  was  in  a  new  latitude,  and  almost  every 
thing  I  heard  or  saw,  was  new  to  me.  The  old 
house,  the  dark  and  narrow  hall,  the  singular 
appearance  of  the  aged  host,  the  red  cap  and 
silver  buckles,  the  two  quart  tumbler,  and  even 
the  grog  itself  ’  was  new  to  me. 

The  whole  scene  was  many  years  afterwards 
brought  freshly  to  my  mind  by  reading  Hallock’s 
song  in  praise  of  the  beer  and  the  Bucktails  of 
Tammany  Hall. 

I  shall  certainly  be  excused  for  inserting,  as  a 
fitting  close  to  this  article,  one  stanza  of  that 
memorable  jeu  d’ sprit. 

“  That  beer  and  those  Bucktails  I  ne’er  shall  forget, 

But  oft  when  alone  and  unnoticed  by  all, 

I  shall  think,  is  the  porter  cask  foaming  there  yet? 

Are  the  Bucktails  still  swigging  in  Tammany  Hall?” 


FRENCH  POLITENESS. 

In  the  course  of  one  of  our  evening  conversa¬ 
tions  the  old  marquis  remarked  that  the  English, 
as  a  nation,  had  no  just  notions  of  politeness : 
and  this  he  attributed  to  the  all-pervading  influ- 


RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS.  75 

ence  of  the  mercantile  and  trading  character  of 
the  people.  The  Americans,  he  said,  though  more 
civil  than  the  English,  imitated  or  adopted  their 
forms  and  ceremonies.  In  France  no  gentleman 
addressed  another  with  his  hat  on,  whether  in¬ 
doors  or  out.  In  America,  as  in  England,  you 
touch  the  hat,  instead  of  uncovering ,  as  true  polite¬ 
ness  dictates.  This,  said  he,  is  never  seen  in 
France,  except  in  the  army,  and  even  there  the 
practice  is  confined  to  subalterns.  But  in  cold 
and  stormy  weather,  said  I,  inquiringly.  ’Tis  all 
the  same,  continued  the  marquis,  politeness  is  a 
code  by  which  we  regulate  our  conduct,  and  has 
nothing  to  do  with  the  weather.  It  takes  no 
lessons  from  convenience.  It  cannot  be  changed 
or  modified  by  any  external  circumstance.  ’Tis 
very  well,  said  I  to  myself,  we  shall  see  how  the 
thing  will  work.  I  shall  avail  myself  of  the  first 
opportunity  to  test  the  theory  of  this  polite  code 
by  reducing  it  to  practice. 

Not  long  after,  in  passing  down  State-street  in 
the  midst  of  a  violent  snow  storm,  I  saw  at  some 
distance  ahead,  the  tall  form  of  the  old  marquis, 
slowly  approaching  in  a  zig-zag  line,  — the  snow 
driving  so  furiously  in  his  face  as  to  oblige  him 
every  now  and  then  to  tack  and  veer  a  little  from 
his  direct  course,  to  enable  him  to  take  breath. 


76  RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS. 

Now,  said  I,  is  the  time,  and  this  the  fitting 
occasion,  to  test  the  virtue  of  that  polite  code,  of 
which  the  old  gentleman  was  so  recently  speak¬ 
ing.  Accordingly,  before  we  came  within  ten 
yards  of  each  other,  I  pulled  off  my  hat  with  an 
air  of  politeness  seldom  witnessed  in  northern 
latitudes.  The  old  marquis  recognized  the  signal, 
and  doffed  his  heaver  at  the  same  moment.  As 
we  met,  we  came  of  course  to  a  full  stop  —  both 
uncovered ,  as  the  code  of  politeness  dictated.  For¬ 
tunately,  neither  of  us  had  an  umbrella  —  and  the 
total  absence  of  any  sort  of  protection  against  the 
elements,  rendered  our  courtesy  more  conspicu¬ 
ous.  In  our  salutations  and  greetings,  we  went 
deliberately  through  all  the  forms — shaking  hands 
with  the  utmost  politeness  and  cordiality,  bowing 
right  and  left  at  the  same  time,  with  many  very 
sincere  assurances  of  pleasure  at  the  happy  meet¬ 
ing.  I  made  a  point  of  honor  to  he  particularly 
deliberate  in  my  compliments  and  enquiries  — 
Madame,  the  children,  Kate  and  Csesar,  were  all 
duly  remembered.  But  no  remark  about  the 
weather  escaped  either  of  us.  The  weather  had 
nothing  to  do  with  the  code,  and  we  had  nothing 
to  do  with  the  weather.  People  in  the  mean  time 
were  looking  out  of  their  shop  windows  at  us, 
and  watching  our  polite  ceremonies  with  perfect 


RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS.  77 

astonishment.  But  there  we  stood,  in  the  midst 
of  the  drifting  snow,  as  unconcerned  as  if  it  had 
been  a  summer’s  morning,  bowing  and  scraping, 
with  our  eyes  and  ears  tilled  with  the  drift,  and 
our  hair  frozen  into  wisps  and  whistling  in  the 
wind.  But  we  paid  no  attention  to  such  small 
matters,  nor  to  the  people  in  the  shops,  who  from 
the  very  politeness  of  our  movements  began  seri¬ 
ously  to  suspect  that  we  were  in  reality  cracked : 
for  the  Albanians,  being  mostly  dutch,  had  in 
truth  but  little  better  notions  of  politeness  than 
the  English  themselves.  After  a  while,  however, 
—  after  having  exhausted  the  whole  budget  of 
compliments  and  talked  over  the  news  of  the  day ; 
after  having  touched  upon  the  prolific  topic  of 
“  Buonaparte  and  the  Bourbons,”  and  discussed 
the  merits  of  French  and  English  literature,  Pope, 
Boileau,  Fenalon,  Massillon  and  Moliere,  we  pre¬ 
pared  to  take  leave ;  and  having  made  our  several 
bows  and  conges,  we  thumped  the  snow  out  of  our 
hats,  and  repeating  the  usual  parting  phrase,  “  au 
plaiser,  monsieur,”  without  further  ceremony, 
separated,  and  resumed  our  respective  courses — 
I,  scudding  before  the  gale  under  bare  poles  down 
the  street,’ the  old  marquis,  brailed:and  buttoned  to 
the  chin,  beating  slowly  to  windward  up  the  hill ! 

Though  the  old  gentleman,  during  the  tete  a  tete, 


78  RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS. 

suffered  no  sign  of  impatience  to  escape  him,  yet 
I  strongly  suspect  he  must  have  wished  the  whole 
theory  of  civilization,  the  special  code,  and  his 
polite  pupil,  to  the  devil,  forty  times  over,  before 
we  parted ! 


THE  MARQUIS’S  PUPILS. 

It  was  reasonably  to  have  been  expected,  that 
before  closing  these  reminiscences  I  should  give 
some  further  account  of  the  young  gentlemen 
who,  under  the  pretext  of  studying  french,  but  in 
reality  from  motives  of  charity  and  the  novelty  of 
the  thing,  became  pupils  of  the  marquis,  and 
boarders  at  the  Hotel  Du  Barraille.  It  was  my 
intention  to  give  a  full  length  portrait  of  each  and 
every  member  of  that  celebrated  school,  but  upon 
reflection,  it  would  occupy  more  time  than  I  can 
now  spare,  and  more  space  than  my  present  can¬ 
vass  will  admit.  Besides,  the  time  has  gone  by, 
when  such  an  exhibition  would  be  interesting. 
Many  of  them  have  long  since  passed  away,  and 
few  remain,  to  whom  their  features  would  be 
familiar.  The  light  that  shone  in  their  chambers, 
is  extinguished  —  their  halls  are  desolate  —  their 
dwellings  are  dark!  I  shall  therefore  content 
myself  by  collecting  a  few  loose  stones  to  set  up 


RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS.  79 

in  this  place  (after  the  manner  of  the  patriarchs 
of  old,)  as  a  memorial  of  their  good-fellowship, 
and  as  a  testimony  to  their  whimsicalities  forever ! 
In  other  words,  I  shall  furnish  the  reader  with  a 
brief  compilation  of  their  personal  peculiarities, 
tastes,  talents  and  acquirements:  and  if  this 
should  fail  to  perpetuate  their  memories,  it  will 
he  the  fault  of  the  compiler,  and  not  of  the  mate¬ 
rials  from  which  it  is  compiled. 

Their  names  on  the  muster  roll  of  the  school 
were  ranged  in  alphabetical  order,  and  by  a  sin¬ 
gular  coincidence,  their  talents  were  found  to 
correspond  with  their  rank  or  position  on  the  roll 
—  descending  the  lettered  ladder  by  regular  gra¬ 
dation,  from  A  to  K,  inclusive.  I  shall  speak  of 
them  in  the  same  order,  and  as  briefly  as  is  com¬ 
patible  with  the  courtesy  due  to  old  acquaintance, 
or  as  may  he  consistent  with  a  just  enumeration 
of  their  various  qualities. 

Mr.  A.  was  a  good  English  scholar,  had  a  smat¬ 
tering  of  latin,  was  master  of  the  french  and 
familiar  with  all  its  dialects — patois,  creole  and 
Canadian.  Wrote  poetry,  read  german,  and  spoke 
dutch.  Was  a  good  sailor,  skilled  in  nautical  lore 
and  learned  in  its  technicalities — understood  the 
theory  of  gun  boats  as  well  as  Mr.  Jefferson  him¬ 
self,  and  could  manage  a  canoe  to  perfection.  He 


80 


RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS. 


was  a  skilful  angler,  full  of  piscatory  science,  and 
familiar  with  all  its  tackling  —  poles  and  hooks 
and  flies !  He  had  a  taste  for  drawing  and  paint¬ 
ing — knew  Shakspeare  by  heart studied  medi¬ 
cine,  read  the  psalms,  and  played  upon  the  fiddle. 
He  was  moreover  a  great  sportsman  and  a  capital 
shot — knew  all  about  double  barrel  and  single 
barrel,  in  cover  or  on  the  wing.  Knew  the  habits 
of  all  sorts  of  game  —  wild  goose,  duck,  plover, 
woodcock,  snipe,  hedge  hog,  fox  and  bear.  Knew 
all  the  points  of  a  horse,  and  spoke  the  classic 
language  of  the  turf  as  fluently  as  his  mother 
tongue.  Was  fond  of  dogs  (as  dogs  were  of  him) 
but  detested  puppies.  He  was  also  a  perfect 
“master  of  fence” — broad  sword,  small  sword, 
quarter  staff  and  cudgel.  Knew  something  of 
mathematics  and  something  of  music  —  was  a 
great  mimic,  a  great  quiz  and  could  tell  a  story 
better  than  any  other  man  living.  In  addition  to 
these  few  particulars,  I  may  add,  that  he  was  a 
gentleman  in  every  aspect' — in  feeling,  address 
and  manner  —  that  he  always  walked  with  a 
cane,  and  was  always  accompanied  by  Siveetheart, 
Blanche  and  Tray. 

Mr.  B.  understood  men  and  things  in  general, 
and  politicians  in  particular,  better  than  any  other 
member  of  the  club.  He  was  something  of  a 


RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS.  81 

writer  and  something  of  a  reader.  He  had  a  taste 
for  satire,  a  great  flow  of  animal  spirits,  some 
wit  and  a  good  memory.  Was  fond  of  poetry, 
music,  fun,  trigonometry  and  backgammon.  Was 
a  great  talker,  hut  talked  well.  A  good  listener, 
hut  impatient  of  folly.  His  strength  lay  in  his 
good  sense,  —  his  weakness  in  an  undue  fondness 
for  poetry.  He  was  a  good  judge  of  character, 
and  knew  every  body’s  weak  side  hut  his  own. 
He  was  in  short  a  man  of  business  with  a  literary 
taste,  uneducated,  hut  well  read — quick  in  his 
perceptions,  just  in  his  conclusions,  ready,  apt, 
and  of  a  lively  imagination. 

Mr.  C.  was  a  hard  student,  well  educated,  well 
informed  —  had  a  full  share  of  common  sense,  hut 
no  wit,  no  tact,  no  taste  —  was  no  lover  of  music 
or  of  poetry.  Had  no  objection  to  fun,  provided 
the  unities  of  time  and  place  were  observed.  His 
knowledge  was  respectable,  sound,  useful.  He 
belonged  to  the  school  of  utilitarians  —  out  of 
that  pale  he  never  travelled  hut  against  his  will. 
He  was  fond  of  argument  and  a  good  dinner,  of 
lobsters,  logic,  and  law.  He  loved  prudence, 
economy,  new  cider,  green  peas,  and  a  beef  steak 
garnished  with  onions.  On  the  other  hand,  he 
had  an  unconquerable  dislike  to  a  tailor’s  bill,  a 
beggar,  and  a  cat !  He  was,  however,  a  reliable 


82  RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS. 

man,  punctual,  regular,  methodical,  and  as  upright 
as  a  doric  column. 

Mr.  D.  was  perhaps  the  best  educated,  certainly 
the  most  accomplished  of  all  the  marquis’s  schol¬ 
ars.  He  had,  moreover,  the  reputation  of  being  the 
handsomest  man  in  the  city.  He  had  a  tine  face, 
a  tine  tone  of  voice,  an  admirable  form,  agreeable 
manners,  an  easy  lounging  gait,  and  great  good 
humour.  He  dressed  well,  danced  well,  was 
particularly  fond  of  music,  and  though  he  could 
not  distinguish  one  tune  from  another,  was  capi¬ 
tal  in  a  chorus.  He  was  somewhat  indolent,  but 
good  hearted,  liberal,  unaffected,  and  unpretend¬ 
ing.  He  gave  himself  but  little  concern  about 
the  ordinary  concerns  of  life,  and  with  the  extra¬ 
ordinary  he  had  nothing  to  do. 

He  was  fresh  from  College,  and  of  course  pro¬ 
foundly  read  and  liberally  learned.  He  knew  the 
first  three  lines  of  Virgil  by  heart — knew  some¬ 
thing  of  Cornelius  Nepos,  and  something  of  Cfesar. 
Had  heard  of  Demosthenes,  of  Homer  and  Hero¬ 
dotus,  perhaps  of  Xenophon  and  Xerxes,  of  Plato, 
and  of  Plutarch.  But  the  ancients  did  not,  I 
believe,  occupy  all  his  thoughts — he  loved  the 
younger  and  the  gayer  world.  He  loved  wit,  he 
loved  music,  and  what  is  more  to  the  purpose,  he 
loved  fun  in  all  its  endless  varieties,  forms  and 


RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS.  83 

phases :  And  to  this  last  article  he  contributed  his 
full  share ;  he  added  largely  to  its  capital  stock, 
and  still  more  liberally  to  its  circulation. 

Mr.  E.  was  one  of  those  polite  and  quiet  men 
who  win  their  way  by  gentleness,  rather  than  by 
force.  What  others  claimed  as  a  matter  of  right, 
he  received  as  a  special  favor.  Though  un¬ 
initiated  in  party  politics,  and  indifferent  to  the 
rule  by  which  the  right  is  determined,  he  never¬ 
theless  went  with  the  majority.  He  was  always 
with  the  many,  never  with  the  few.  He  admired 
power,  strength,  wealth,  dress,  fashion,  taste  and 
show.  He  paid  the  profoundest  deference  and 
respect  to  men  in  high  stations,  and  wisely  mea¬ 
sured  their  talents  by  their  rank.  His  knowledge 
was  rather  exact  than  extensive,  hut  his  good 
nature,  politeness  and  courtesy,  knew  no  bounds. 
His  colloquial  powers  were  not  great,  but  he  was 
an  excellent  listener,  and  laughed  at  every  joke, 
whether  he  understood  it  or  not.  He  took  no  part 
in  any  sharp  discussion,  trod  upon  no  man’s  toes, 
and  differed  with  no  man  in  opinion,  at  least  not 
audibly.  He  sung  a  good  song,  took  lessons  in 
dancing,  wore  kid  gloves,  and  played  upon  the 
flute.  With  such  a  happy  temper  of  mind,  and 
such  amiable  qualities,  it  would  be  needless  to  say 
that  he  was  a  universal  favorite. 


84  RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS. 

Though  there  was  much  in  the  character  of  Mr. 
E.  to  which  a  proud  mind  would  object,  yet  I 
must  confess  that  I  looked  upon  it  with  some  de¬ 
gree  of  admiration,  and  occasionally  with  a  feeling 
bordering  upon  envy.  He  was  certainly  the  most 
amiable,  and  by  far  the  most  popular  man  in  the 
club. 

Mr.  F.  made  no  pretensions  to  scholarship  of 
any  kind.  He  knew  nothing  of  greek,  latin, 
french  or  german.  He  had  read  but  little  beyond 
the  pentateuch,  day  book  and  ledger.  But  he  had 
good  sense,  good  nature,  and  mother  wit  in  abun¬ 
dance.  It  may  easily  be  imagined  that  he  had  no 
taste  for  poetry  and  no  skill  in  music.  Yet,  like 
Mr,  D.  his  voice  was  admirable  in  a  chorus.  He 
borrowed  nothing  from  others,  nothing  from  books. 
His  powers  and  resources  were  all  his  own.  He 
uttered  nothing  that  smelt  of  the  lamp  —  though 
it  sometimes  had  the  flavor  of  the  shop.  Ease, 
humour,  drollery,  a  love  of  wit  and  a  love  of  fun, 
characterized  his  social  intercourse.  He  was 
perpetually  saying  good  things,  and  sometimes,  I 
used  to  think,  without  knowing  it.  He  was  in 
short  not  only  witty  himself,  but  the  cause  of  wit 
in  others,  A  better  hearted  man  never  lived. 

Mr.  G.  was  in  one  sense,  the  lion  of  the  club. 
He  was,  indeed,  one  of  a  thousand!  in  other 


RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS.  85 

words,  a  most  singular  character,  a  most  perfect 
original.  He  possessed  one  quality,  one  single 
trait,  composed  partly  of  mind  and  partly  of  man¬ 
ner,  which,  like  Aaron’s  rod,  swallowed  up  all  the 
rest.  It  was  assurance  —  or,  more  correctly  speak¬ 
ing,  impudence!  which,  hut  for  its  unbounded 
excess,  would  have  been  offensive,  if  not  intole¬ 
rable.  It  was  neither.  It  was  indeed  so  striking, 
so  transcendental,  as  seemingly  to  partake  of  the 
character  of  genius.  It  seemed,  in  him,  to  lose 
the  vulgarity  of  its  nature  and  to  operate  like  wit. 
Its  exhibition  was  indeed  almost  always  followed 
by  a  roar  of  laughter. 

The  voice,  the  eye,  the  whole  face,  indeed  the 
ivhole  man,  was  the  expressive  type  of  cold,  im¬ 
passive,  unabashed  and  unabashable  impudence. 
Yet  it  had  weight,  it  had  character,  it  had  influ¬ 
ence.  It  was  surprising,  astonishing,  amusing. 
Notwithstanding  the  absurdity  of  the  assertion, 
proposition  or  speech,  in  which  this  peculiar  trait 
was  embodied,  it  was  so  strengthened  and  sus¬ 
tained  by  the  air  of  confidence  with  which  it  was 
uttered,  that  you  were  led  to  doubt  for  a  moment 
the  correctness  of  your  own  conclusions,  thinking 
it  possible  there  might  be  in  it  something  more 
than  appeared  upon  the  face  of  the  record. 

He  was  not,  however,  altogether  destitute  of 


86  RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS. 

other  and  more  agreeable  qualities,  but  they  were 
lost  in  the  blaze  of  the  virtue  we  have  attempted 
to  describe.  He  was  rather  good  natured  than 
Otherwise,  full  of  crotchets  and  inventions  provo¬ 
cative  of  mirth,  and  to  one  who  sought  amuse¬ 
ment  only,  was  an  agreeable  companion. 

He  had  received  a  College  education  and  could 
- write  his  name  ! 

Mr.  H.  was  a  gentleman  in  every  respect,  hut 
without  any  strong  points  of  character,  peculiari¬ 
ties,  faults  or  follies.  He  played  an  excellent 
game  of  whist,  talked  to  his  horse,  read  Ossian 
and  the  Canticles,  loved  music,  and  entered  cor¬ 
dially  into  all  the  amusements  of  the  club. 

Mr.  I.  was  placed  by  ballot  at  the  head  of  the 
table  as  carver  and  master  of  ceremonies,  which 
station  ( particularly  when  there  was  no  company 
present  and  the  principal  dish  was  a  cutlet  of 
liver  or  a  howl  of  soup, )  he  filled  with  distin¬ 
guished  ability. 

Mr.  K.  the  last  name  upon  the  muster  roll  of 
the  school — the  least  and  the  humblest,  I  shall 
leave  to  the  imagination  of  the  reader.  It  does 
not  become  me  to  draw  my  own  portrait. 

Now,  it  would  be  doing  great  injustice  to  the 
marquis’s  pupils,  to  dismiss  them  with  such  a 
hare  and  skeleton-like  enumeration  of  their  tastes 


RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS.  87 

and  qualities,  as  is  presented  in  the  foregoing 
sketches.  From  such  loose  outlines  and  uncon¬ 
nected  details,  their  real  characters  cannot  justly 
be  inferred.  The  union  of  such  elements  might 
or  might  not  have  been  favorable.  The  moral 
aspect,  the  combined  influence,  the  general  re¬ 
sult,  is  still  wanting.  That  result,  in  my  judg¬ 
ment,  was  highly  creditable. 

That  there  was  much  social  freedom,  wild  wit, 
humor,  song  and  youthful  jolity  among  them,  I 
readily  admit:  but  there  was  a  counterpoise  to 
this — there  was  something  higher  and  better. 
There  was  a  high  sense  of  honor,  a  pride  of  cha¬ 
racter,  —  ambition,  emulation,  and  effort.  There 
was  much  close  and  varied  reading,  much  labo¬ 
rious  study.  More  than  one  language  was  culti¬ 
vated,  more  than  one  species  of  knowledge  ac¬ 
quired.  Composition  was  practiced,  and  poetry 
studied  as  an  art  —  the  latter  was  indeed  assidu¬ 
ously  cultivated  as  a  vehicle  of  satire  and  of  wit. 
A  sufficient  knowledge  of  french  was  obtained,  by 
those  who  pursued  the  study,  to  read  and  trans¬ 
late  it  with  ease.  To  speak  it,  was  found  to  be  a 
very  different  thing  —  the  time  was  too  short,  the 
opportunities  too  few «—  it  was,  in  fact,  commenc¬ 
ed  too  late  in  the  day.  But  the  door  to  french 
literature  was  opened,  and  to  be  able  to  read 


88 


RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS. 


Moliere  in  the  original,  even  if  nothing  else  had 
been  gained,  was  worth  all  the  time  we  spent  at 
the  school. 

In  all  these  various  studies  and  pursuits,  as 
well  as  in  all  the  amusements  of  the  club,  good 
manners,  good  habits,  and  a  gentlemanly  tone  of 
feeling  were  observed.  Temperance,  notwith¬ 
standing  the  goblets  that  occasionally  figured  in 
our  songs,  was  the  order  of  the  day  —  the  volun¬ 
tary,  unpledged  habit  of  each  and  of  all.  We 
should  as  soon  have  thought  of  sharpening  our 
wits  by  profanity  as  of  drawing  our  inspiration 
from  the  glass. 

As  a  specimen  of  the  progress  made  in  the  art 
of  rhyming,  I  annex  an  ode,  which  I  recognized 
and  cut  from  an  Ohio  newspaper  some  twenty 
years  ago.  It  was  attributed  by  the  editor  to  the 
pen  of  Mr.  Southwick,  in  whose  paper  (the  Alba¬ 
ny  Register,)  it  originally  appeared.  It  was  in 
fact,  however,  one  of  the  many  similar  produc¬ 
tions  of  the  Hotel  Du  Barraille.  The  first  three 
stanzas  were  written  by  Mr.  A.,  the  remaining 
four  by  Mr.  K.  And  with  this,  I  close  these  idle, 
and  I  fear  somewhat  tedious,  reminiscences. 


RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS. 

89 

ODE 

IN  PRAISE  OF  TRIMMING. 

r. 

Happy  the  man,  in  times  like  these, 

Who  trims  his  sails  to  every  breeze — 

With  every  gale  still  veering: 

Who,  to  promote  his  private  ends, 

Ne’er  scruples  to  desert  his  friends — 

Still  by  his  interest  steering. 

ii. 

0,  could  I  trim  with  trimming  Ben, 

I’d  turn,  and  turn,  and  turn  again — 

With  every  change  still  trimming: 

Like  Bray’s  famed  vicar  would  I  ride, 

Forever  with  the  stronger  side — 

Still  with  the  current  swimming. 

in. 

And  should  intrusive  conscience  still, 

In  secret  goadings  thwart  the  will, 

Like  him  I’d  bravely  doff  it: 

Leave  fame  and  honor  far  behind, 

Though  dear  to  every  noble  mind, 

And  give  up  all  for  profit. 

IV. 

What’s  honor’s  proud  and  crusty  creed, 

To  him  who  stands  of  cash  in  need, 

Or  him  in  search  of  place  ? 

What’s  independence  to  a  mind 

To  wise  servility  inclined, 

And  fearless  of  disgrace  ! 

M 

90  RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS. 


V. 

What  virtue  dwells  in  empty  fame  ? 

And  what’s  the  value  of  a  name, 

To  any  but  a  novice  ? 

What’s  reputation,  friendship,  pride, 
Compared  with  fortune’s  flowing  tide — 
With  party,  power,  and  office  ? 

VI. 

The  pliant,  patriot,  trimming  tribe, 

Who  wisely  take  the  official  bribe, 

To  better  their  condition — 

Now  sweeping  ’fore  the  pop’lar  gale, 
All  former  friends  and  creeds  assail, 
And  curse  the  opposition. 

VII. 

And  this,  I  hold,  is  wisdom’s  course. 
Stick  to  your  party  while  in  force. 

Or,  while  your  party  pay : 

But  when  defeat  appears  in  view. 

And  party  loaves  prove  light  and  few, 
Up  helm,  and  bear  away! 


RECOLLECTIONS  OF  HUDSON, 

BY  THE  AUTHOR  OF 

“RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS  OF  ALBANY” 


PREFACE. 

I  have  always  looked  upon  it  as  a  piece  of  impertinence  in  an  Author  to 
usher  his  book  into  the  world  without  a  preface.  It  is  like  walking  into 
your  house  without  knocking.  I  care  not  what  the  caliber  of  the  thing 
may  be,  whether  an  iron-bound  quarto,  or  a  two-penny  pamphlet,  nor  by 
whom  written,  a  Humboldt  or  a  Headley,  it  should  have  a  well  considered, 
staid  and  respectful  preface.  The  Author  should  not  only  announce  his 
name,  but  tell  us  who  he  is,  where  he  came  from,  and  how  he  came  to  write  the 
hook  !  He  should  moreover  state  what  the  book  contains,  the  character  of 
its  contents,  and  whether  in  his  judgment  it  is  worth  the  money  that  is 
asked  for  it. 

Entertaining  these  views,  and  disposed  to  furnish  example  as  well  as 
precept,  I  proceed  to  state,  that  the  name  of  the  writer  of  these  reminis¬ 
cences  (according  to  his  own  account)  is  Ignatius  Jones,  of  Jonesborough 
Hall ;  that  they  were  written  in  one  of  the  long  evenings  of  1847,  as  a  phi¬ 
losophical  exercise  of  the  powers  of  memory,  and  for  amusement  only. 

That  they  were  not  written  with  any  view  to  publication,  or  with  any 
other  view,  is  he  thinks  sufficiently  apparent  from  their  style  and  character, 
but  that  he,  the  said  Jones,  having  subsequently  written  and  published 
certain  “  Random  Recollections  of  Albany,”  has  ventured  to  append  these 
kindred  sketches  to  a  second  edition  of  that  work,  trusting  that  they  will 
be  received  with  the  same  indulgence  that  was  extended  to  their  Albany 
relatives. 

On  the  subject  of  their  contents,  I  am  bound  to  say  something.  They  con¬ 
tain,  then,  (among  innumerable  other  things)  some  account  of  the  original 
settlers  of  Hudson  and  of  the  early  prosperity  of  the  city;  some  notice  of 
the  people  called  Quakers,  and  some  brief  sketches  of  the  loafers  of  the 
town,  and  other  distinguished  personages,  civil  and  political. 

As  to  their  intrinsic  value,  were  I  to  be  governed  by  the  cost  of  their 
manufacture,  or  by  the  low-priced  character  of  the  raw  material,  I  should 
not,  I  confess,  estimate  them  very  highly.  But,  like  all  other  commodi¬ 
ties,  they  are  subject  to  the  laws  and  contingencies  of  trade :  and  are  there¬ 
fore  worth,  — just  what  they  will  bring. 

That  there  is  any  thing  in  them  good  or  bad,  useful  or  ornamental,  is 
not  pretended.  They  are  not,  however,  to  be  considered  as  mere  moon¬ 
shine:  they  are  not  fancy  pieces.  They  owe  nothing  to  the  inventive 
faculties,  nothing  to  the  spirit  of  poetry,  nothing  even  to  the  coloring  of 
the  imagination.  On  the  contrary,  they  are  true  and  faithful  transcripts 
from  the  records  of  memory  —  unembelished  scenes  and  sketches  from  real 
life,  hastily  indeed,  and  carelessly  written,  but  with  a  spirit  of  fairness 
and  in  a  tone  of  good  feeling  not  to  be  mistaken. 

Whether  these  things,  taken  together,  are  in  their  favor  or  against  them, 
will  depend  upon  the  taste  of  the  reader. 

I.  J. 


RECOLLECTIONS  OF  HUDSON, 

Some  time  in  the  autumn  of  1847,  I  had  occa¬ 
sion  to  spend  a  part  of  two  days  in  the  city  of 
Hudson — a  city  in  which  I  had  passed  the 
greater  part  of  the  first  twenty  years  of  my  life. 
Though  horn  on  Quaker-Hill,  in  the  county  of 
Dutchess,  I  have  still  been  in  the  habit  of  con¬ 
sidering  Hudson  as  my  native  town,  for  the  reason 
that  my  earliest  recollections  date  from  that  place. 
Many  years  had  elapsed  since  I  had  before  visited 
the  city,  otherwise  than  by  passing  rapidly 
through  it.  I  had  now  leisure  to  stroll  through 
its  streets  and  ramble  over  its  hills ;  to  look  at  the 
old  dilapidated  mansion  in  which  I  had  passed 
my  boyish  days  —  and  to  pause  and  wonder  at  its 
apparently  diminished  size,  and  wretched  aspect. 

The  feelings  and  associations  that  were  awak¬ 
ened  by  this  review  of  scenes  so  familiar  and  yet 
so  changed,  I  shall  not  attempt  to  describe.  I  am 
much  more  disposed  to  recall  the  joyous  spirit  of 
the  past,  than  to  dwell  upon  the  gloomy  aspect 


4  RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS. 

of  the  present ;  to  transcribe  from  the  glowing 
page  of  memory,  rather  than  to  speculate  upon 
the  melancholy  results  of  time. 

The  population  of  the  town,  though  greatly 
diminished,  struck  me  as  having  undergone  a 
still  greater  change  in  character  than  in  numbers. 
Most  of  the  faces  I  met  with,  were  new  to  me ; 
and  the  few  that  I  recognized,  bore  evident  signs 
of  the  flight  of  fortune  as  well  as  of  time.  But 
what  struck  me  still  more  forcibly,  was  the  all- 
pervading  air  of  listless  indolence,  and  the  sab¬ 
bath-like  stillness  of  the  place. 

There  are  doubtless  to  be  found  in  Hudson,  as 
in  every  community,  individuals  who  are  ena¬ 
bled  successfully  to  resist  the  current  of  adversity, 
and  to  thrive  even  in  the  midst  of  penury. 
These  exceptions,  however,  though  in  the  present 
case  few,  and  to  my  eye  far  from  being  promi¬ 
nent,  did  but  render  the  general  decadency  more 
striking.  The  change  that  had  taken  place,  was 
not  to  be  disguised ;  and  as  the  recollection  of 
other  days  rushed  upon  my  mind,  I  could  not  but 
exclaim,  “  What  a  difference  between  the  present 
and  the  past,  as  it  regards  both  men  and  things  /  ” 

Hudson  was,  indeed,  for  many  years  one  of  the 
most  beautiful  and  flourishing  towns  on  the  noble 
river  whose  name  it  bears.  The  site  of  the  city, 


RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS.  5 

and  the  views  from  its  bold  high  bank  in  front, 
are  still  beautiful, —  but  the  days  of  its  prosperity 
have  long  since  passed  away.  Its  population  has 
decreased,  its  wealth  diminished,  its  business 
sources  have  dried  up,  and  almost  every  vestige 
of  its  former  glory  has  disappeared.  There  are 
now  no  shipping  at  its  docks,  and  no  ships  build¬ 
ing.  There  is  now  no  ring  of  the  anvil  to  be 
heard, — no  sound  of  the  axe  or  the  hammer. 
There  is  no  bustle  of  seamen  along  its  wharves, 
no  song  of  the  ropemaker  upon  its  hills,  no  throng 
of  wagons  from  the  interior,  no  crowds  of  men 
in  its  streets.  The  shipyards  are  overgrown  with 
grass,  the  wharves  have  mouldered  away,  the 
ropewalk  is  deserted,  the  warehouses  are  empty, 
and  the  once  busy  crowds  have  long  since  disap¬ 
peared.  It  is  only  on  the  arrival  or  departure  of 
a  steamboat  that  any  decided  signs  of  life  are  visi¬ 
ble  :  And  yet  the  surrounding  scenery  is  as  beau¬ 
tiful  as  ever.  The  river  has  neither  diminished  in 
breadth  or  depth :  the  tide  ebbs  and  flows  as  usual ; 
the  hills  are  as  green,  the  valleys  as  rich,  and  the 
Catskill  mountains  as  high  and  as  blue  as  they 
were  when  the  city  was  in  its  prime,  and  its  morn¬ 
ing  stars  first  sang  together !  Yet  the  silent,  and 
half-depopulated  town  seems  to  communicate  a 
melancholy  air  to  every  thing  around  it.  “  ’  Tis 


6  RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS. 

Greece,”  said  I,  repeating  to  myself  one  of  Lord 
Byron’s  verses  — 

“  ’  Tis  Greece,  but  living  Greece,  no  more!” 

There  is,  however,  some  considerable  wealth  still 
left  in  Hudson;  and  with  it  much  professional 
talent,  and  high  personal  respectability.  Could 
industry  but  find  encouragement  or  reward,  in¬ 
dustry  would  again  become  rife  and  active.  But 
it  unfortunately  happens,  that  those  of  its  citizens 
who  possess  the  means  of  encouraging  the  busi¬ 
ness  interests  of  the  place,  have  neither  the  pub¬ 
lic  spirit  nor  the  energy  of  character  to  employ 
those  means  to  advantage.  Or,  in  other  words, 
to  risk  one  farthing  for  the  general  good.  This, 
however,  may  be  prudent,  —  perhaps  wise  ! 

The  spirit  of  enterprize  is  indeed  dead.  Not 
even  the  well-directed  efforts  of  Mr.  Barnard,  nor 
the  persevering  exertions  of  Mr.  Curtiss,  could 
keep  it  alive.  But  notwithstanding  this  total  ab¬ 
sence  of  life  and  spirit,  there  is  no  appearance  of 
wretchedness  or  of  want  in  any  part  of  the  city. 
There  is  no  exhibition  of  vice,  no  spectacle  of 
misery:  no  jive  points ,  to  give  celebrity  to  any 
quarter.  On  the  contrary,  there  is  a  general  ap¬ 
pearance  of  frugality,  of  neatness  and  of  order. 

The  elevated  position  of  the  town  renders  it 
airy  and  healthful,  and  gives  it,  when  viewed  from 


RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS.  7 

the  river,  as  you  approach  it  from  the  south,  rather 
an  imposing  aspect.  But  for  the  want  of  business, 
nothing  can  compensate  —  for  the  tedium  of  eter¬ 
nal  dullness,  nothing  can  atone. 

But  let  us  go  hack  from  the  present  to  the  past. 
Let  us  turn  from  the  decrepitude  of  age,  to  the 
buoyancy  and  vigor  of  youth,  —  from  lassitude  to 
exertion,  from  penury  to  wealth. 

The  original  settlers  of  Hudson,  were  a  fine 
specimen  of  the  New-England  race;  stout,  well- 
formed,  noble-looking  men.  Many  of  them  weal¬ 
thy,  all  possessed  of  means,  and  all  active,  intel¬ 
ligent,  and  enterprizing.  Some  few  of  them,  I 
remember,  were  even  somewhat  aristocratic  in 
their  air  and  manner.  One  of  the  principal  found¬ 
ers  of  the  city,  Thomas  Jenkins,  was  indeed  a 
princely-looking  man ;  uniting  the  stateliness  and 
dignity  of  the  old  school  of  gentlemen,  with  the 
brief  address  and  energetic  air  of  a  man  of  busi¬ 
ness.  I  can  see  him  at  this  moment,  in  my  mind’s 
eye,  as  distinctly  as  he  appeared  to  me  fifty  years 
ago, — when  standing  on  his  wharf  with  his  long 
pipe  in  one  hand,  and  his  gold-headed  cane  in  the 
other,  he  watched  and  directed  the  preparations 
for  the  sailing  of  his  ships.  There  are  few  such 
men  to  be  found  at  the  present  day,  even  in  the 
great  metropolis  itself.  He  and  his  brothers,  it 


8 


RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS. 


was  said,  brought  with  them  from  the  east  half  a 
million  of  dollars ;  and  under  his  auspices,  coast¬ 
ing,  whaling,  the  West-India  trade,  and  indeed 
almost  every  other  species  of  trade  and  com¬ 
merce,  were  for  many  years  successfully  prose¬ 
cuted.  As  a  merchant,  though  of  some  twenty 
years  later  date,  Mr.  Jenkins  belonged  to  the 
school  of  Hancock  —  as  stately  in  person,  as  dig¬ 
nified  in  demeanor,  as  princely  in  dress  (bating 
a  little  gold  lace,)  and  as  authoritative  in  air  and 
manner. 

Never,  by  the  by,  was  there  a  nobler  race  of 
men,  whether  physically  or  intellectually  consid¬ 
ered,  than  that  which,  under  providence,  guided 
the  destinies  of  this  country  from  1770  to  1790. 
Nor  did  any  of  the  colonies  furnish  finer  speci¬ 
mens  of  that  race,  than  Massachusetts. 

Is  it,  I  would  ask,  to  the  spirit  of  democracy, 
or  is  it  to  the  more  frequent  use  of  political  ma¬ 
chinery,  that  we  are  to  attribute  the  decline  and 
fall  of  that  patriot  race?  We  certainly  gain  in 
some  things,  though  we  lose  ground  in  others. 
We  advance  in  knowledge,  but  seem  to  fall  back 
in  principle. 

And  yet,  whenever  I  feel  disposed  to  imagine 
that  the  world  is  growing  worse,  I  cast  my  eyes 
back  and  contemplate  the  history  of  the  chosen 


RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS.  9 

people.  I  am  struck  with  the  pious  humanity  of 
Sarah,  —  the  maternal  morality  of  Rebeckah,  and 
the  worldly  wisdom  of  Jacob  and  of  Laban.  I 
hear  the  cries  of  Hagar  and  her  child  in  the 
wilderness  —  I  read,  with  singular  emotion,  the 
impositions  practiced  upon  Isaac,  —  and  I  admire 
beyond  all  measure  the  subtle  substitution  of 
Leah,  and  the  curious  philosophy  of  the  pealed 
rods.  But  it  is  incumbent  upon  us  diligently  to 
remember,  that  these  things  were  permitted  for 
wise  purposes :  and  that  the  transgressions  of  the 
Davids  and  Solomons  of  modern  days,  are  not 
to  be  cloaked  by  a  comparison  with  those  of  the 
illustrious  ancients,  whether  Jews  or  Gentiles. 

But  this  is  somewhat  digressive  — -  let  us  return 
to  our  subject. 

Hudson,  in  its  early  days,  was  as  remarkable 
for  its  enterprize  and  vigor,  as  it  now  is  for  its 
inertness  and  decreptitude.  Of  its  original  pro¬ 
prietors,  one  solitary  individual  alone  remains. 
He  witnessed  the  laying  of  the  first  corner  stone, 
and  has  lived  to  see  the  once  stately  edifice,  like 
himself,  tending  to  decay.  Do  you  ask  why  the 
trade  of  this  town  has  thus  dwindled  into  such 
comparative  insignificance  ?  I  answer,  the  town 
was  built  on  the  wrong  side  of  the  river.  But  it 
is  an  error  of  judgment  to  build  a  city  with  refer- 


10  RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS. 

ence  to  foreign  commerce,  on  either  side  of  a 
river,  at  any  point  between  the  head  of  navigation 
and  the  outlet  to  the  ocean.  This  is  particularly 
true  as  it  respects  the  Hudson.  New-York  and- 
Albany  must  ever  command  the  trade  of  the  river 
and  the  interior.  The  one  as  the  great  depot , 
levying  a  transit  duty ;  the  other  as  the  great  mart 
to  which  the  products  of  the  north  and  west  ne¬ 
cessarily  tend.  All  the  intermediate  towns  on  the 
river  have  their  limits.  Their  trade  is  necessarily 
confined  to  small  localities  and  narrow  strips. 
Hence  they  may  be  pretty  villages,  but  unless 
they  become  the  seats  of  manufacturing  establish¬ 
ments,  they  can  be  nothing  more. 

There  is,  perhaps,  with  the  exception  of  the 
individual  to  whom  I  have  just  referred,  no  one 
now  living  who  has  so  distinct  a  recollection  of 
the  town  and  its  early  inhabitants,  as  the  writer 
of  these  random  sketches.  I  mention  this,  with¬ 
out  connecting,  or  meaning  to  connect  with  it, 
any  idea  of  its  usefulness,  value  or  advantage, 
whatever.  There  is,  indeed,  to  my  mind,  some¬ 
thing  perfectly  ridiculous  in  the  tenacity  with 
which  memory  clings  to  and  retains  the  impres¬ 
sions  of  early  life.  No  matter  how  frivolous  the 
subject  may  be,  nor  how  uninteresting  the  facts 
or  the  forms  thus  retained;  there  they  are,  and 


RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS.  11 

there  they  will  remain,  in  all  their  original  fresh¬ 
ness  and  vividity.  You  cannot  shake  them  off ; 
you  cannot  get  rid  of  them,  either  by  proscription, 
effort  or  neglect. 

I  shall  probably  be  tempted,  or  rather  compel¬ 
led,  in  the  course  of  these  reminiscences,  to  give 
the  reader  some  singular  illustrations  of  this  trick 
of  memory,  this  tenacity  of  mind,  which  makes 
no  distinction  between  the  useful  and  the  useless, 
and  which  consequently  preserves  with  equal 
care  the  pebble  and  the  diamond. 


THE  NURSE. 

I  recollect,  as  of  hut  yesterday,  things  which 
took  place  when  I  was  but  three  years  of  age.  I 
remember  distinctly  the  form  and  features  of  the 
nurse  in  whose  lap  I  sat  to  he  dressed.  She  was, 
however,  I  must  say,  a  person  not  easily  to  be 
forgotten  by  any  one.  Her  voice  was  as  peculiar 
as  her  person  was  remarkable;  it  was  as  shrill 
as  a  fife,  and  in  addition  to  its  cajoling  tones,  had 
in  it  all  the  elements  of  authority ;  while  as  to 
her  weight,  it  could  not  have  been  less  than  twen¬ 
ty  stone,  or  two  hundred  and  eighty  pounds, 
avoirdupois !  To  this  was  added  the  strength  of 
a  giant.  One’s  memory,  therefore,  should  not  he 


12  RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS. 

too  harshly  censured  for  retaining  the  impressions 
of  such  a  personage.  But  she  was  something 
more  than  I  have  yet  stated.  She  was  something 
of  an  orator,  too :  full  of  zeal,  of  action,  and  of 
emphasis.  I  still  remember  a  speech  of  hers, 
addressed  to  a  political  audience,  which  I  consi¬ 
der  worthy  of  record :  though  delivered  at  a  peri¬ 
od  somewhat  later  than  that  to  which  I  have  refer¬ 
red,  It  was  at  the  time  Napoleon  was  threatening 
the  invasion  of  England,  and  when  many  of  our 
small  anti-gallican  politicians  believed,  or  affected 
to  believe,  that  if  successful  in  that  quarter,  we 
should  next  have  him  here.  On  hearing  this,  my 
patriot  nurse,  who  had  never  yet  seen  the  man 
she  feared,  rose  and  declared,  that  “  if  mister 
Bonaparty  ever  put  his  foot  upon  these  ere  shores, 
she  would  give  him  a  piece  of  her  mind,  she’d 
warrant  him  !”  Adding,  with  a  look  and  gesture 
suited  to  the  sense  of  the  phrase,  “  that  she’d 
spank  the  little  corsican  brute  and  stick  him  upon 
top  of  Saint  Paulses !”  It  was  a  speech  worthy 
of  Hanibal,  or  even  of  Hanegan  himself! 

My  recollections  of  Hudson  go  hack  to  the 
building  —  when  the  town,  like  myself,  was  in  its 
infancy.  I  remember  the  picture  it  exhibited  on 
a  cold  calm  morning  in  winter :  I  remember  the 
deep  masses  of  snow  that  lay  piled  upon  the  tops 


RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS. 


13 


of  the  houses,  glittering  in  the  morning  sun ;  and 
the  tall  straight  columns  of  smoke,  that  from  the 
tops  of  the  few  scattered  chimneys  ascended  high 
and  unbroken  into  the  air.  It  is  the  first  recol¬ 
lection  I  have  of  the  city,  and  must  of  course 
have  been  the  first  sight  of  the  kind  I  had  ever 
seen :  hence  the  impression  was  necessarily  dis¬ 
tinct  and  strong. 

A  still  more  striking  picture  was  exhibited  a 
few  years  afterwards  by  the  conflagration  in  the 
night  of  a  large  building,  occupied  as  a  bookstore 
and  printing  office,  which  was  consumed  with  all 
its  contents.  The  organization  of  the  fire  depart¬ 
ment  of  the  city,  was  at  that  time  extremely  im¬ 
perfect  ;  there  being  no  engines,  no  buckets,  no 
water,  and  no  firemen !  The  fire,  therefore,  was 
left  to  take  its  own  course;  and  it  accordingly 
raged  not  only  unchecked,  hut  unmolested.  For¬ 
tunately  the  night  was  calm,  and  the  flames  as¬ 
cended  directly  upwards  to  the  very  skies,  carry¬ 
ing  with  them  innumerable  fragments  of  papers 
and  burning  hooks,  blazing  as  they  flew ;  filling 
the  whole  air  with  their  fiery  forms,  and  then 
descending  in  every  direction,  covering  the  town 
as  with  a  shower  of  falling  stars.  Such  a  scene, 
so  beautiful,  and  then  so  new,  was  not  easily  to 
he  forgotten  by  man  or  boy. 


14  RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS. 

Almost  all  the  early  inhabitants  of  Hudson, 
were  from  the  New  England  States,  but  mostly 
from  Massachusetts:  and  as  I  have  already  re¬ 
marked,  were  an  active,  enterprizing  and  intelli¬ 
gent  body  of  people.  No  town  or  county  in  the 
State  could  boast  of  a  more  respectable  population. 
But  in  the  course  of  human  events,  this  uniform¬ 
ity  in  caste  and  character  was,  like  that  of  the 
ancient  Chinese,  broken  in  upon  and  impaired  by 
an  influx  of  the  Tartars.  Hudson,  in  fact,  like 
all  other  new  towns,  soon  numbered  among  its 
inhabitants  individuals  of  all  descriptions  and 
complexions,  castes  and  characters.  Idlers,  va¬ 
grants  and  vagabonds,  as  spotted  as  Jacob’s  cattle, 
crept  in,  one  after  another,  until  every  variety  of 
the  loafer  species  was  represented,  and  the  ground 
tier  rendered  complete. 

It  suited  my  taste  to  take  cognizance  of  all 
that  belonged  to  these  new-comers ;  to  note  down 
their  looks  and  actions,  and  to  sketch  upon  the 
blank  leaves  of  memory  a  full-length  portrait  of 
the  most  distinguished  individual  of  each  tribe. 
I  must,  indeed,  have  taken  a  particular  fancy  to 
these  gentry  —  for,  of  the  habits,  character  and 
costume  of  no  other  class,  is  my  knowledge  so 
perfect,  or  my  recollections  so  clear.  There  were 
among  them  no  less  than  four  deserters  from  Bur- 


RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS.  15 

goyne’s  army:  namely,  a  frenchman,  a  scotch- 
man,  a  belgian  and  a  hessian. 


THE  FRENCHMAN, 

Monsieur  Lescure,  —  who  had  been  a  drummer 
under  Burgoyne,  was  now  barber  to  the  corpora¬ 
tion,  there  being  no  other  knight  of  the  razor  in 
town.  With  him,  as  with  all  other  frenchmen, 
from  the  sublime  to  the  ridiculous,  from  the  camp 
to  the  shop,  from  the  drumsticks  to  the  pole  and 
comb,  there  was  but  a  single  step.  With  him, 
drumming  and  shaving,  like  the  love  and  war  of 
Lothario,  took  turns  like  day  and  night.  He 
united,  indeed,  with  singular  felicity,  the  charac¬ 
teristics  of  both  professions.  He  had  the  air,  the 
gait,  the  consequence,  and  the  coxcombry  of  the 
one,  with  the  familiar  loquacity,  and  the  pert  but 
polite  demeanor,  of  the  other. 

I  can  still  see  him,  in  imagination,  with  his 
frizzled  head,  his  broad  low  forehead,  his  little 
black  eyes,  his  high  cheek  bones,  wfide  mouth, 
and  triangular  visage,  walking  backward  and  for¬ 
ward  (as  was  his  wont)  before  his  little  shop  door, 
humming  a  tune  and  snapping  his  fingers,  with 
all  that  careless  gaiety,  so  characteristic  of  his 
countrymen.  Though  low  in  stature,  he  was  well 


16  RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS. 

formed :  indeed,  a  handsomer  leg  than  his  own, 
seldom  walked  into  his  shop.  His  dress  was  in 
keeping  with  his  person  and  his  profession.  A 
long  broad-striped  calico  gown,  a  short  white 
apron,  tight  nankeen  small  clothes,  ruffled  shirt, 
silk  stockings  and  yellow  slippers,  completed  his 
outward  man.  Such  was  Monsieur  Lescure. 


JEMMY  FRAZER. 

The  Scotchman  was  quite  another  sort  of  per¬ 
son  :  an  animal,  I  may  say,  of  a  very  different 
description.  He  was  familiarly  known  by  the 
name  of  Jemmy -—-though  on  the  list  of  the  civil 
dignitaries  of  the  town,  he  was  written  down 
James  Frazer  — for  Jemmy  had  found  favor  in  the 
eyes  of  the  common  council,  and  had  received 
the  high  and  lucrative  appointment  of  town  crier. 
But  Jemmy  loved  a  glass  of  grog,  and  was  hap¬ 
pier,  it  is  said,  with  two  than  with  one.  Be  this 
as  it  may,  he  was  popular  in  the  lower  wards, 
and  his  office  gave  him  influence  at  the  polls. 
Hence  he  was  looked  up  to,  as  one  dog  does  to 
another  who  wears  a  collar.  His  evening  levees 
were  generally  held  in  and  about  the  market¬ 
place,  and  were  numerously  attended  by  the  boys, 
who  encored  his  speeches  and  applauded  his  gyra- 


RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS.  17 

tions,  sometimes,  by  shouts,  and  sometimes  by  a 
volley  of  eggs,  which  Jemmy  too  often  discovered 
were  none  of  the  sweetest.  Of  the  style  in  which 
he  performed  his  official  duties,  the  following  may 
be  taken  as  a  specimen : 

Mr.  Nixon,  Cashier  of  the  Bank  of  Columbia, 
in  going  late  in  the  evening  from  the  office  to  his 
house,  lost  the  key  of  the  Bank ;  but  it  was  near 
midnight  before  he  missed  it.  Not  wishing  to 
create  an  alarm  by  a  search  at  that  late  hour,  he 
concluded  to  say  nothing  about  it  till  morning ; 
but  the  search  in  the  morning  proved  unsuccess¬ 
ful,  and  as  the  last  resort,  Jemmy  was  sent  for. 
The  particulars  were  related  and  Jemmy  was 
directed  to  cry  the  lost  key  through  the  streets, 
with  a  reward  of  two  dollars  to  the  finder,  but 
was  specially  charged  to  let  no  one  know  that  it 
was  the  key  of  the  Bank.  So,  a  little  after  sunrise, 
Jemmy  commenced  his  round,  bell  in  hand  — 
C  ling-ding !  cling-ding !  Hare  ya !  hare  ya !  But, 
early  as  it  was,  Jemmy  had  been  up  long  enough 
to  get  pretty  well  corned,  and  as  the  boys  were 
collecting  and  shouting  at  his  heels,  his  memory 
became  somewhat  confused,  and  the  several  par¬ 
ticulars  of  time  and  place,  with  his  instructions 
what  to  say  and  what  not  to  say,  got,  somehow 
or  other,  all  jumbled  together ;  —  But,  ringing  his 


18  RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS. 

bell  stoutly,  as  if  to  clear  up  his  ideas,  he  began 
again,  “Hare  ya  !  hare  ya  !  Lost,  between  Jamy 
Nixon’s  and  twalve  o’clock  at  night,  a  large  kay !” 
Here  the  hoys  interrupted  him,  with,  — What  sort 
of  a  key  was  it  Jemmy?  What  sort  of  a  key  was 
it  ?  Go  to  the  deil !  cried  Jemmy,  turning  short 
upon  them,  an  I  tell  ye  that,  ye’ll  be  after  getting 
into  the  Bonk  with  it ! 

It  grieves  me  to  add,  that  for  this  very  natural 
and  judicious  answer,  Jemmy  lost  his  commis¬ 
sion  —  and  that  shortly  thereafter  the  office  of 
Town  Crier  was  abolished. 


THE  BELGIAN, 

Notwithstanding  the  warlike  character  of  his 
“  Belgic  sires  of  old,”  and  the  military  reputation 
he  had  recently  acquired  under  Burgoyne,  the 
Belgian  was  of  a  peaceable  and  unobtrosive  tem¬ 
perament:  yet  he  made  a  figure  in  the  walks  of 
civil  life,  which  attracted  universal  attention ; 
and  which,  had  it  been  sketched  by  the  hand  of 
genius,  would  have  carried  his  name  and  fame 
down  to  the  latest  posterity.  But  the  opportunity 
was  lost ;  and  all  that  now  remains  of  the  ancient 
Belgian,  is  the  deep  impression  he  left  upon  the 
minds  of  his  cotemporaries.  He  commenced  his 


RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS.  19 

career  in  Hudson,  (and  ended  as  he  began),  by 
peddling  clams  and  white  sand ,  which  he  carried 
about  from  door  to  door,  in  an  old  ricketty  one- 
horse  wagon,  taking  his  pay  in  ashes!  His  ap¬ 
pearance  in  the  streets  was  a  subject  worthy  of 
the  study  of  Teniers,  or  even  of  Rubens  himself. 
His  horse  was  as  blind  as  a  beetle,  and  every  bone 
in  his  body  might  have  been  counted  as  easily  as 
the  spokes  in  the  wheel  of  the  wagon  to  which 
he  was  attached.  As  for  the  old  Belgian  himself, 
he  was,  if  possible,  more  of  a  wreck  of  bones 
than  his  horse;  almost  as  blind,  and  twice  as 
much  of  a  scarecrow.  His  frame  seemed  to  be  a 
mere  complication  of  angles.  There  was  nothing 
about  him  curved  or  round,  save  his  head.  His 
dress,  if  dress  it  might  be  called,  was  composed 
of  sundry  specimens  of  ancient  costumes,  seem¬ 
ingly  selected  by  the  hand  of  taste  to  set  him  off 
to  advantage.  His  coat,  which  had  probably  been 
in  more  wars  than  one,  came  down  to  his  very 
heels ■ — at  least  one  tail  of  it:  the  other,  it  was 
said,  had  been  left  on  the  Plains  of  Abraham.  A 
part  of  one  sleeve  too,  w*as  missing.  That  was 
believed  to  have  been  lost  at  Saratoga.  The  color 
had  been  originally  blue,  but  had  grown  grey, 
partly  through  age,  and  partly  through  the  mys¬ 
tifying  influence  of  sand  and  ashes.  Its  buttons 


20  RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS. 

had  shared  the  fate  of  the  tail  and  sleeve ;  they 
had  been  detached ,  and  left  behind  in  the  wars. 
His  nether  garment  stopped  short  at  the  knees, 
and  all  below  that  point  was  in  a  state  of  nature. 
To  crown  all,  his  hat  was  crownless— that  is  to 
say,  entirely  open  at  the  top.  It  was,  moreover, 
minus  two-thirds  of  the  brim.  Such  a  team, 
man,  horse  and  wagon  no  human  eye  ever  beheld 
before,  or  will  ever  behold  again ! — But  the  bel- 
gian  had  his  good  qualities — he  was  a  man  of 
but  few  words,  and  those  were  monosyllables  — 
Clams  and  Sand!  All  I  have  to  add,  is, — peace  to 
his  Ashes! 


THE  HESSIAN. 

As  for  the  Hessian,  he  was  a  surly  dog,  and 
though  cowardly,  kept  the  boys  at  bay — few  of 
them  were  hardy  enough  when  they  saw  him 
passing,  to  set  up  their  usual  shout  of  “There 
goes  one  of  Burgoyne’s  men!”  And  yet  a  sly 
egg  from  an  unseen  hand  occasionally  overtook 
him  in  turning  a  corner,  and  left  a  mark  suffi¬ 
ciently  evident  to  more  than  one  of  the  senses. 


THE  QUAKERS. 

Having  thus  disposed  of  these  veterans  of  Bur¬ 
goyne’s  army,  I  now  turn  to  another  and  very 


RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS.  21 

different  class  of  citizens  — a  class,  less  ornate, 
less  picturesque  in  appearance,  but  more  regu¬ 
lar  in  their  habits  and  more  peaceful  in  their 
pursuits. 

Nearly  one-third  of  the  early  inhabitants  of 
Hudson,  belonged  to  what  is  called  “  The  Society 
of  Friends”  —  a  society  noted  for  all  those  quali¬ 
ties  which  render  a  community  respectable  and 
prosperous — frugality,  temperance,  industry,  love 
of  order,  and  a  love  of  money.  As  my  mother  was 
a  member  of  that  society,  I  was  of  course  (in  my 
juvenile  days)  sent  to  the  quaker  church,  where 
I  had  leisure  in  abundance  to  note  a  variety  of 
facts  and  proceedings,  which  my  memory  has 
preserved  with  scrupulous  exactness. 

There,  upon  the  high  seats,  and  high-backed 
benches,  sat  the  scribes  and  elders  of  the  church, 
in  their  broad-brimmed  hats,  leaning  upon  their 
hickory-headed  canes.  There,  too,  was  seen  the 
striking  classification  or  division  of  the  sexes ;  the 
males  on  the  one  side,  the  females  on  the  other, 
with  the  boys  and  girls  seated  in  the  rear  of  the 
respective  divisions.  Then  came  the  queer-look¬ 
ing  preachers  of  different  ages,  sizes  and  sexes. 
There  sat  the  venerable  Lott  Tripp,  blind  as  Mil- 
ton  in  his  latter  days,  but  resembling  Milton  in 
no  other  particular.  There  too,  was  old  Thomas 


22  RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS. 

Comstock;  a  worthy  old  gentleman,  hut  no  Cice¬ 
ro.  On  the  opposite  side,  in  conscious  superio¬ 
rity,  with  her  keen  enquiring  eye,  sat  the  cele¬ 
brated  Hannah  Barnard,  who  was  subsequently 
“  read  out  of  meeting”  for  having  herself  read  too 
much.  Next  to  these  queer-looking  preachers, 
came  the  still  queerer  preaching — beginning  with 
a  single  word  —  then  a  pause  of  two  or  three  mi¬ 
nutes — then  another  word,  and  another  pause, — 
but  the  pauses  becoming  shorter  and  shorter,  and 
the  words  getting  closer  and  closer  together,  until 
at  length  it  became  a  vehement  and  torrent-like 
roar  of  quaker  eloquence,  half  said,  half  sung !  In 
comparison  with  which,  the  oratory  of  Massillon, 
or  even  that  of  the  celebrated  Bridaine,  was  tame 
and  spiritless. 


JETHRO  HELL. 

But  I  have  a  better  reason  than  any  of  these, 
for  remembering  the  quaker  church  and  quaker 
meetings.  The  old  codgers  —  I  beg  their  pardon 
—  I  mean  the  conscript  fathers  upon  the  high 
benches,  had  a  practice  which  excited  my  ire  at 
the  time,  and  which  determined  me  to  quit  their 
church  and  their  society,  as  soon  as  time  or 
chance  would  enable  me  to  choose  for  myself. 


RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS.  23 

The  practice  to  which  I  refer,  was  that  of  getting 
quietly  off  their  high  seats,  and  coming  gingerly 
down  the  middle  aisle,  with  malice  prepense,  to 
rap  the  heads  of  the  hoys  who  happened  to  be 
asleep.  The  taps  I  received  upon  my  noddle, 
from  the  ends  of  their  long,  ill-looking  canes, 
have  never  been  forgotten  or  forgiven.  So  deter¬ 
mined  were  the  old  squaretoes  upon  the  high 
benches,  to  keep  the  boys  from  the  luxury  of  a 
nap,  that  they  deputed  one  of  their  number,  (a 
very  worthy  bushy -headed  old  gentleman,  by  the 
name  of  Jethro  Bell,)  to  pitch  his  tent  in  the 
midst  of  their  camp,  so  as  to  be  ready  to  rap  their 
noddles,  on  the  first  suspicion  of  a  nod. 

I  remember  well  the  consternation  he  excited 
by  his  sudden  appearance  upon  the  juvenile 
benches.  He  took  his  seat,  as  it  happened,  next 
to  a  boy  who  was  considered  as  a  sort  of  idiot  — 
that  is,  a  compound  of  imbecility,  cunning  and 
mischief;  and  for  the  first  two  hours  of  the  ses¬ 
sion,  kept  a  bright  lookout  on  all  sides ;  but  find¬ 
ing  the  juveniles  wide  awake ,  he  at  length  relaxed 
his  vigilance,  and  leaning  his  body  forward,  and 
resting  his  chin  upon  the  ivory  head  of  his  cane, 
seemed  to  indulge  in  a  more  profitable  train  of 
thoughts.  This  our  cunning  imbecile,  who  had 
been  all  the  while  watching  him  like  a  cat,  quietly 

P 


24  RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS. 

noted.  Perceiving,  at  the  same  time,  the  awk¬ 
wardness  of  the  position  in  which  the  old  gentle¬ 
man  had  placed  his  gravity,  he  meditated  a  piece 
of  mischief,  the  temptation  to  which,  was  too 
strong  to  be  resisted.  Without,  therefore,  giving 
the  old  man  time  to  finish  the  business  calcula¬ 
tions  which  he  was  probably  making,  he  suddenly 
struck  the  cane  from  under  him,  when,  to  the 
infinite  delight  of  the  boys,  down  he  came,  with  a 
terrible  crash,  head  foremost,  between  the  benches ! 
The  whole  meeting  was  thrown  into  confusion. 
The  elders  gathered  together  round  the  old  man, 
Avho  lay  sprawling  upon  the  floor,  utterly  speech¬ 
less.  It  was  at  first  thought  to  he  a  case  of  apo¬ 
plexy;  hut  the  truth  was  soon  out,  and  our  idiot 
friend  innocently  confessed  that  he  did  it,  11  in 
trying  to  kill  a  fly  on  Jethro's  cane  /”  It  is  hardly 
necessary  to  add,  that  this  was  the  first  and  last 
appearance  of  friend  Bell  upon  the  boys’  benches ! 

It  must,  in  justice  to  the  hoys,  he  remembered, 
that  the  exercises  in  a  quaker  church,  are  few 
and  uncertain;  that  there  is  no  regular  service ; 
no  reading,  no  praying,  no  singing;  that  nine 
Sundays  out  of  ten,  there  is  even  no  preaching ; 
and  that  consequently,  in  a  great  majority  of 
cases,  the  whole  broad-brimmed  and  dove-colored 
flock  sit  together  in  profound  silence  for  three 


RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS.  25 

mortal  hours !  Now,  I  would  ask,  what  hoy  of 
an  undrabbed  intellect,  could,  under  such  circum¬ 
stances,  keep  awake  ? 

In  addition  to  this  distaste  to  their  church  dis¬ 
cipline,  I  have  a  political  objection  to  the  society 
of  Friends.  I  remember  hearing  my  father  say 
that  the  quakers  were  almost  all  lories  during  the 
war  of  the  revolution:  that  they  were  not  only 
not  for  the  country,  hut  against  it.  But  notwith¬ 
standing  all  this,  I  am  hound  in  honor  and  in  jus¬ 
tice  to  admit,  that  a  more  orderly,  industrious, 
and  respectable  class  of  citizens  (hating  the  prac¬ 
tice  of  rapping  the  hoys’  heads  in  church,)  is  not 
to  he  found,  under  any  Christian  denomination,  in 
the  United  States. 


IR.  GRANT. 

In  a  town,  whose  population  does  not  exceed 
two  or  three  thousand,  there  can  he  no  families 
or  persons  unknown.  The  character  of  every  new 
comer  is  immediately  sifted  to  the  bottom,  —  the 
run  of  every  stranger  is  soon  pumped  dry.  If  any 
one  has  any  peculiar  gift  or  quality,  it  is  soon 
found  out — if  any  thing  marvelous  to  tell,  he  is 
sure  of  an  attentive,  if  not  an  admiring  audience. 

Among  the  many  singular  persons  with  whom  I 


26  RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS. 

became  acquainted  in  those  early  days,  was  a  young 
man  by  the  name  of  Grant,  whose  residence  in  the 
city  was  somewhat  accidental,  and  of  but  short 
duration.  He  had  apparently  been  well  educated ; 
but,  although  neither  vicious  nor  intemperate,  had 
adopted  a  loose  and  wandering  way  of  life.  His 
family,  according  to  his  own  account,  were  origi¬ 
nally  from  England,  but  had  resided  some  years 
in  France,  and  subsequently  in  Germany,  from 
which  country  they  had  emigrated  to  the  United 
States.  He  spoke  several  languages,  was  seem¬ 
ingly  familiar  with  English  literature,  conversed 
well,  and  was  yet  a  common  sailor,  following  the 
sea  for  a  living.  He  had  evidently  seen  much  of 
the  world,  and  was  capable  of  giving  at  least  an 
interesting  account  of  what  he  had  heard  and 
seen.  He  became  a  great  favorite  with  the  young 
men  of  the  city ;  to  whom  he  related  the  history 
of  his  voyages  and  adventures  —  his  hair-breadth 
escapes,  and  moving  accidents  by  flood  and  field 
—  somewhat  after  the  manner  of  Othello,  or  the 
gens  d' esprit  in  Gil  Bias. 

Nothing  could  be  more  amusing  than  some  of 
his  stories.  They  were  not  only  good  in  them¬ 
selves,  but  were  told  with  an  air  of  gravity,  which 
sometimes  contrasted  whimsically  with  the  spirit 
of  the  tale.  They  were  moreover  related  with  so 


RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS.  27 

much  minuteness,  or  specification  of  detail,  as  to 
preclude  all  idea  of  their  being  the  mere  inven¬ 
tions  of  the  moment. 

On  one  occasion,  I  remember,  we  asked  him 
to  give  us  some  account  of  his  early  life,  to  which 
he  replied,  that  there  were  few  incidents  of  his 
boyish  days,  worth  relating,  or  worth  listening  to ; 
hut,  if  we  desired  it,  he  would  tell  us  a  story, 
which  would  throw  some  light  on  the  subject 
proposed.  He  doubted,  however,  whether  we 
would  have  the  patience  to  hear  it  through.  We 
assured  him  that  we  should  listen  to  it  with  the 
greatest  pleasure.  It  was,  he  said,  a  ghost  story , 
and  one  that  he  had  always,  until  now,  refrained 
from  telling.  This  excited  our  curiosity  to  the 
highest  pitch :  and  drawing  our  chairs  in  the  form 
of  a  circle  around  him,  we  urged  him  to  begin  it 
without  delay,  —  which  he  did,  as  nearly  as  my 
memory  serves  me,  in  the  following  words. 

THE  GHOST  STORY. 

My  father,  commenced  Mr.  Grant,  in  a  low  and 
solemn  tone  — my  father  was  a  man  of  strong 
sense  and  sound  judgment ;  and  though  not  libe¬ 
rally  educated,  possessed  much  knowledge  of  the 
world  and  much  general  information,  and  yet, 
strange  as  it  may  appear,  was  decidedly  skeptical 


28  RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS. 

on  the  subject  of  ghosts.  He  did  not,  in  fact, 
believe  in  their  existence,  and  was,  moreover, 
greatly  disposed  to  ridicule  those  who  did.  He 
had  no  faith  in  the  miracles  of  the  present  day. 
The  laws  of  nature  he  considered  as  uniform  and 
immutable,  and  to  the  imperfection  of  our  senses, 
or  the  influence  of  the  imagination,  he  attributed 
whatever  appeared  to  he  incompatible  with  those 
laws.  He  was  aware  of  the  disposition  of  the 
human  mind  to  magnify  and  to  exaggerate ;  and 
hence  was  unhappily  led  to  coincide  with  the 
celebrated  Sancho,  “  that  the  world  was  terribly 
given  to  lying.” 

He  had  been  a  navigator  in  his  younger  days, 
and  was  a  skilful  mathematician:  And  it  was 
probably  to  his  early  habits  of  observation  and 
love  of  science,  that  he  was  indebted  for  his 
matter  of  fact  character  of  mind,  as  well  as  for  his 
total  freedom  from  that  secret  superstition  which 
infects  and  characterizes  “  the  wanderers  of  the 
deep.”  With  him,  names  had  no  influence,  and 
authorities  but  little  weight,  when  opposed  to  the 
dictates  of  his  own  judgment  or  the  unerring 
results  of  his  mathematical  philosophy.  But 
vanity  is  the  vice  of  the  skeptical ;  and  the  great 
error  of  all  self-taught  or  practical  men,  is,  to  take 
for  their  guide  the  inadequate  light  of  their  own 


RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS.  29 

experience ;  to  distrust  the  testimony  of  the  learn¬ 
ed;  to  consider  as  doubtful  whatever  is  difficult 
to  demonstrate,  and  to  reject  as  visionary  what¬ 
ever  they  cannot  comprehend. 

My  father,  continued  Mr.  Grant,  evidently  be¬ 
longed  to  this  class,  and  derided  the  notion  of 
ghosts  as  a  lingering  relic  of  former  superstitions, 
at  once  idle  and  absurd.  But  my  mother  differed 
with  my  father  upon  this,  as  well  as  upon  many 
other  subjects.  Her  faith  was  not  hounded  by 
the  narrow  confines  of  human  reason,  nor  con¬ 
trolled  by  the  demonstrations  of  worldly  science, 
hut  extended  to  the  marvelous  and  the  mysteri¬ 
ous  :  and  was  evidently  based  upon  the  broad  and 
pious  principle,  that  all  things  are  possible  with 
God.  And  who  shall  dare,  said  Mr.  Grant,  with 
unusual  emphasis,  —  as  if  a  chord  of  his  heart  was 
still  in  unison  with  his  mother’s  piety — ivho  shall 
dare  to  hound  his  omnipotence,  or  fix  a  limit  to 
his  will ! 

Hence,  —  he  continued,  after  a  short  pause  — 
hence  it  was,  that  in  relation  to  the  doctrine  of 
apparitions,  my  mind,  when  a  child,  vibrated 
between  the  extremes  of  sturdy  skepticism  and 
implicit  faith:  now  inclining  to  the  one,  now 
tending  to  the  other.  At  night,  if  my  memory 
serves  me,  I  was  secretly  disposed  to  subscribe  to 


30  RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS. 

the  faith  of  my  mother,  and  admit  the  probability 
of  ghosts.  But  in  the  day  time,  the  opinions  of 
my  father  prevailed,  and  I  coolly  considered  them, 
with  all  their  adjuncts  and  etceteras,  as  the  mere 
humbugs  of  fancy,  and  for  the  time  being  set 
them  at  defiance.  A  circumstance,  however,  oc¬ 
curred  in  my  thirteenth  year,  which  turned  the 
scale,  and  settled  the  question  in  my  mind  for 
ever. 

My  father,  at  that  time,  resided  on  a  farm  situ¬ 
ated  on  the  hanks  of  the  Walkill,  at  the  distance 
of  about  six  miles  from  the  town  of  Berne.  To 
this  town  I  was  frequently  despatched  on  family 
errands,  and  in  the  summer  season,  occasionally, 
on  foot.  Though  of  a  light  and  slender  form,  I 
was  still  an  active  pedestrian  of  my  age,  and 
when  at  liberty  to  choose  my  own  course,  pre¬ 
ferred  walking  to  riding;  since  it  afforded  me  an 
opportunity  of  making  sundry  inroads  into  or¬ 
chards,  and  paying  other  digressional  visits  by 
the  way.  It  furnished  me,  moreover,  with  an 
excellent  excuse  for  being  absent  the  whole  day 
and  returning  late  at  night.  On  one  occasion  I 
had  so  far  forgotten  myself  as  to  continue  loiter¬ 
ing  about  the  town  until  the  sun  was  nearly 
down.  When  suddenly  recollecting  myself,  and 
perceiving  the  lateness  of  the  hour,  I  ran  hastily 


RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS.  31 

over  in  my  mind  the  objects  of  my  errand,  and 
having  satisfied  myself  that  all  was  right,  I  im¬ 
mediately  set  out  for  home,  with  a  step  quickened 
partly  by  the  prospective  darkness  of  the  walk, 
and  partly  by  a  sense  of  my  own  delinquency. 
But  before  I  had  fairly  left  the  town,  the  sun  had 
sunk  behind  the  mountains,  and  the  misty  twi¬ 
light  of  evening  was  gathering  in  the  vallies. 

The  country  round,  was  at  that  time  compara¬ 
tively  new,  and  in  its  aspect,  broken  and  wild. 
On  ascending  the  rising  grounds  on  the  east  of 
the  town,  I  looked  back— and  the  whole  valley 
was  covered  with  a  bluish  haze,  through  which  a 
few  scattered  lights  in  the  suburbs  of  the  village 
were  alone  visible.  I  pushed  rapidly  on,  —  for 
the  shades  of  evening  were  now  fast  gathering 
upon  the  hills.  But  on  gaining  the  summit  of 
the  ridge,  I  saw  with  delight  the  broad  full  moon 
rising  majestically  before  me.  She  had  just 
emerged  from  behind  the  clouds  that  skirted  the 
eastern  horizon,  and  was  throwing  across  the 
darkened  landscape,  a  soft  and  cheering  light.  I 
crossed  the  brow  of  the  hill,  and  continued  briskly 
along  the  descending  grounds  until  I  reached  the 
plain  below,  where  the  road  branched  off  in  dif¬ 
ferent  directions.  The  one  was  the  main,  or 
valley  road,  as  it  was  called ;  the  other,  sheering 

_ Q _ 


32 


RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS. 


to  the  left,  led  directly  across  a  high  range  of 
rocky  hills,  and  was  consequently  hut  little  tra¬ 
veled.  I  paused  a  moment  to  consider  which  I 
should  take.  It  occurred  to  me  that  I  might 
perhaps  get  a  chance  ride  on  the  lower  road;  hut 
the  lateness  of  the  hour  rendered  it  improbable. 
The  mountain  path  looked  dark  and  lonely.  The 
greater  part  of  it  was  through  a  thick  but  stinted 
growth  of  pines  and  cedars,  impervious  to  the  rays 
of  either  sun  or  moon.  The  distance  was  at  least 
two  miles  across,  and  there  was  neither  house  nor 
human  habitation  by  the  way.  But  it  had  this 
advantage,  it  was  a  mile  and  a  half  the  shorter  of 
the  two.  I  listened  in  the  hope  of  hearing  the 
sound  of  wheels  returning  from  the  town.  But  no 
sound  was  to  be  heard  save  the  shrill  and  solitary 
notes  of  the  whippoor-will,  as  they  occasionally 
rung  out  from  the  thickets  of  the  valley  road. 

The  moon  was  now  peering  above  the  tops  of 
the  hills,  and  her  friendly  light  determined  my 
course.  I  brought  my  resolution  to  the  sticking 
point,  and  turning  to  the  left  with  an  air  of  confi¬ 
dence,  boldly  took  the  rougher  and  the  shorter 
road.  I  soon  reached  the  little  stream  that  wash¬ 
ed  the  foot  of  the  mountain,  and  in  a  few  minutes 
more,  was  lost  amid  the  shades  of  the  pines  that 
covered  its  steep  and  shaggy  sides. 


RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS.  33 

Though  I  had  often  traveled  the  road  before, 
yet  it  had  always  been  by  daylight :  and  hence 
there  were  now  parts  of  it  that  appeared  new  to 
me.  The  rocks  seemed  to  have  increased  in  size, 
the  acclivities  to  have  become  more  steep,  and 
the  pines  and  hemlocks  to  have  assumed  a  darker 
and  a  wilder  aspect.  My  imagination  took  the 
color  of  the  moment.  All  the  ghost  and  goblin 
stories  that  I  had  ever  heard,  now  rushed  with 
peculiar  freshness  to  my  mind:  and  what  was 
more,  my  mother’s  fearful  opinions  came  crowd¬ 
ing  at  their  hack.  But  the  rapid  pace  with  which 
I  moved  soon  set  my  blood  in  motion ;  the  cool 
mountain  air  braced  my  nerves,  and  I  either  shook 
the  phantoms  from  my  mind,  or  set  them  at  defi¬ 
ance.  Physical  exertion  is,  in  most  cases,  an 
antidote  to  fear.  The  muscles  and  the  imagina¬ 
tion  seldom  work  together.  Keeping,  however,  a 
bright  lookout,  both  to  the  right  and  left,  and 
footing  it  briskly,  I  soon  reached  the  higher  and 
more  open  grounds.  But  even  there,  the  path 
was  fearfully  checkered  by  the  deep  shadows  of 
projecting  rocks,  and  the  impervious  umbrage  of 
occasional  clumps  of  pines  and  cedars. 

I  at  length  reached  the  summit  of  the  highest 
hill:  and  more  fortunate  than  Tam  O’Shanter, 
had,  as  I  thought,  gained  unscathed  the  key-stone 


34  RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS. 

of  the  bridge.  Considering  myself,  therefore,  as 
in  some  measure  “out  of  the  woods,”  I  ventured, 
at  an  open  space,  to  make  a  full  stop,  and  to  look 
deliberately  around  me.  This  I  did,  partly  out  of 
compliment  to  my  courage,  and  partly  to  take 
breath  for  a  moment  after  so  rapid  a  march. 

The  prospect  was  truly  beautiful.  On  the  west, 
the  distant  mountains  reared  their  high  heads 
and  stretched  their  huge  forms  in  long  and  undu¬ 
lating  lines.  The  checkered  landscape  of  the 
intervening  valley  was  spread  beneath.  The 
moon  shone  with  unclouded  splendor,  and  poured 
upon  the  surrounding  hills  a  flood  of  light.  The 
wild  and  impressive  character  of  the  scenery ;  the 
solitariness  of  the  spot,  and  the  breathless  silence 
that  reigned  over  all,  produced  a  state  of  mind 
and  feeling  which  I  had  never  before  experienced. 
A  thousand  vague  and  indistinct  ideas,  forms  and 
images  floated  in  my  mind ;  and  among  them, 
were  not  a  few  that  owed  their  origin  to  the  pious 
credulity  of  my  mother. 

But  soon  recollecting  myself,  and  brushing  these 
misty  matters  from  my  mind,  I  continued  my 
course  steadily  and  rapidly  along,  and  had  nearly 
reached  the  eastern  brow  of  the  mountain,  (at  the 
foot  of  which  lay  the  valley  road,)  when  all  of  a 
sudden  my  ears  were  assailed  by  a  most  terrific 


RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS.  35 

sound  issuing  from  a  turn  in  the  path  directly  in 
front  of  me,  and  scarcely  three  paces  distant. 
The  blood  rushed  to  my  heart  with  such  force 
that  I  could  scarcely  breathe  —  the  shock  was 
indeed  electric.  I  started  back,  and  turning  upon 
my  heel,  ran  with  the  lightness  and  speed  of  a 
deer.  But  recovering  my  senses,  and  perceiving 
nothing  behind  me,  I  stopt — and  listened  —  all 
was  still.  I  looked  to  see  whether  it  was  practi¬ 
cable  to  get  round  the  spot.  But  to  quit  the  path 
was  too  hazardous — I  might  not  be  able  to  regain 
it — and  to  turn  back  and  recross  the  mountain, 
was  out  of  the  question. 

I  therefore  determined  to  advance  and  take  the 
consequence,  be  it  what  it  might.  With  my  mind 
thus  made  up,  I  proceeded  cautiously  along,  casting 
my  eye  from  side  to  side,  and  reconnoitering  with 
breathless  vigilance.  I  had  hardly  reached  the 
spot  from  whence  the  sound  issued,  when,  to  my 
horror,  there  it  was  again !  the  same  terrific  sound ! 
It  was  a  distinct  but  long  and  hollow  groan,  ac¬ 
companied  by  a  rattling  noise,  as  if  advancing  to 
the  road.  My  hair  began  to  rise  —  but  I  stood  my 
ground  —  and  after  a  short  pause,  I  demanded,  in 
as  firm  a  tone  as  I  could  assume,  “  Who’s  there  ?” 
No  answer  was  returned.  I  repeated  the  ques¬ 
tion — 'but  still  no  answer.  I  then  collected  my 


36  RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS. 

strength,  and  walked  deliberately  by.  Having 
now  fairly  passed  it,  the  next  impulse  was  to  run, 
and  if  pursued,  test  its  speed.  But  I  thought  of 
my  father.  I  should  never  dare  tell  the  story  to 
him :  in  truth,  I  had  no  story  to  tell,  for  as  yet,  I 
had  seen  nothing.  I  had  heard  something  to 
he  sure  —  and  as  far  as  my  own  feelings  were 
concerned,  it  was  enough.  Yet  as  I  was  now 
within  a  mile  or  two  of  home,  and  as  the  path 
was  before  me  and  the  enemy  behind,  I  began  to 
feel  my  courage  rise.  So,  without  further  parley, 
I  wheeled  round  and  marched  boldly  up  to  the 
spot.  I  advanced  to  the  very  edge  of  the  road  — 
I  pushed  the  dark  braches  of  the  hemlocks  aside, 
and  looked  in- — I  saw  nothing- — I  entered  the 
thicket  —  and  started  back!  for  there  it  stood,  as 
white  as  snow !  huge !  monstrous !  looking  me, 
with  its  green  and  yellow  eyes,  directly  in  the 
face!  I  considered  myself  a  gone  dog — for  I 
was  within  the  reach  of  its  grasp,  and  had  seem¬ 
ingly  no  power  to  move.  The  blood  seemed  to 
curdle  in  my  veins,  and  the  cold  sweat  stood  upon 
my  brow.  I  shook  like  an  aspen  leaf.  It  was  no 
delusion  of  the  senses  —  there  was  no  mistake  as 
to  its  existence.  There  it  stood — -palpable,  tan¬ 
gible,  terrific!  I  steadied  myself  by  graspingthe 
branch  of  a  tree  —  and  after  recovering  a  little, 


RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS.  37 

placed  one  foot  back,  so  as  to  be  ready  for  a  start, 
and  then  spoke  to  it  again.  But  it  was  evidently 
not  one  of  the  answering  kind — it  made  no  reply. 
Collecting  myself,  therefore,  and  looking  more 
steadily  at  it,  I  thought  I  could  perceive  it  dimi¬ 
nish,  both  in  bulk  and  stature — it  seemed  to  be 
nearer  to  the  earth,  and  to  look  less  formidable. 
I  walked  directly  up  to  it  —  when  lo,  and  behold ! 
what  should  it  be,  but  an  old  Buck !  —  the  leader 
of  the  fleecy  flock  that  fed  upon  the  mountains. 
He  had  contrived  to  get  his  head  and  huge  cir¬ 
cumference  of  horns  between  the  two  stems,  or 
upright  branches  of  a  sapling,  that  were  united 
near  the  ground,  but  more  open  above ;  and  in 
his  struggles  to  get  loose,  had  pressed  his  neck 
down  into  the  narrow  gorge,  and  was  choking  to 
death.  He  was  alone  —  for  the  flock,  (following 
the  example  too  often  set  them  by  a  higher  order 
of  animals)  regardless  of  the  sufferings  of  their  lea¬ 
der,  had  rambled  on  and  left  him  to  his  fate. 

It  required  my  utmost  exertions  to  relieve  him : 
and  even  after  I  had  succeeded,  he  was  for  some 
time  unable  to  stand.  I  stood  by  him,  however, 
until  he  had  partially  recovered  his  strength,  then 
got  him  upon  his  feet  and  conducted  him  into  the 
road:  where,  after  advising  him  to  keep  to  the 
open  grounds,  and  above  all  things  to  beware  of 


38  RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS. 

again  thrusting  his  head  between  the  branches  of 
a  mountain  staddle,  I  wished  him  good  night ! 
and,  holding  the  doctrine  of  ghosts  in  sovereign  con¬ 
tempt,  pursued  my  course  with  a  light  and  rapid 
step  down  the  eastern  declivity  of  the  mountain. 

We  thanked  Mr.  Grant  for  his  story  —  praised 
it  as  the  best  of  the  kind  we  had  ever  heard,  and 
assured  him  that  we  had  listened  to  it  with  the 
greatest  pleasure  and  the  profoundest  attention. 
So  profound,  ice  might  have  added,  that  several  of 
us  came  within  an  ace  of  getting  asleep  during  its 
narration  ! 

I  agree  with  Mr.  Macauly,  that  in  the  history 
of  a  nation,  the  character  and  condition  of  the 
people  must  constitute  an  important  element; 
and  that  the  habits  and  manners  of  individuals, 
selected  from  the  various  classes  of  a  community, 
must  necessarily  throw  some  light  upon  the  cha¬ 
racter  of  the  community  itself. 

- - - »»  •  <4 - - 

MRS.  GILES. 

In  accordance  with  these  views,  I  proceed  to 
transcribe  from  the  pencilings  of  memory,  (as  Mr. 
Willis  would  say,)  some  account  of  the  distin¬ 
guished  women  of  Hudson :  And  the  first  name 
that  presents  itself  on  this  list,  next  to  that  of  the 


RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS.  39 

nurse ,  of  whom  I  have  already  spoken,  is  that  of 
Mrs.  Giles.  She  was  a  short,  stout,  rosy-looking 
woman,  round  as  a  dumpling  and  fat  as  butter ; 
and  well  she  might  be  —  for  she  was  one  of  the 
fortunate  few  whose  ways  and  means  were  not, 
like  those  of  Ole  Bull,  limited  to  a  single  string — 
she  had  two  to  her  how ;  she  kept  a  sort  of  juve¬ 
nile  pastry  shop  —  sold  pies,  and  played  upon  the 
fiddle  !  Yes !  I  repeat  —  sold  pies  and  played  upon 
the  fiddle  !  Science  in  music  is  one  thing,  effect 
is  quite  another.  Judging  from  the  sounds  still 
ringing  in  my  ears,  I  should  say  Paganini  was  a 
fool  to  her.  Even  the  music  of  the  opera,  with  all 
its  scientific  trills,  sinks  into  insignificance  when 
compared  with  that  to  which  I  used  to  listen  in 
Mrs.  Giles’s  little  hack  parlor. 

Youth  has  its  favorites,  and  I  am  well  aware 
that  memory  is  sometimes  disposed  to  dip  her 
pencil  in  the  dyes  of  the  imagination,  to  set  them 
off  to  advantage.  Every  period  of  life  has  its 
wonders :  hut  in  all  my  subsequent  ramblings,  I 
have  seen  nothing  in  the  musical  world  equal  to 
Mrs.  Giles:  nothing,  indeed,  approaching  to  her 
Apollo-like  form,  air  and  manner!  All  other 
fiddlers  have  been  to  me,  when  out  of  sight,  out 
of  mind :  they  have,  indeed,  died  with  their  strains. 

R 


40 


RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS. 


But  Mrs.  Giles  still  lives  in  the  apple  of  my  eye, 
and  is,  in  despite  of  time,  immortal ! 


MRS.  NEWBERRY. 

Among  my  female  acquaintances  of  those  days 
I  had  many  special  favorites,  of  whom  my  memo¬ 
ry  can  still  furnish  what  the  printers  call  proof 
impressions. 

Of  this  class,  was  an  elderly  lady  by  the  name 
of  Mrs.  Newberry.  She  was  indeed  a  particular 
friend  of  mine,  and  was  moreover  well  known  to 
every  one  who  had  any  pretensions  to  a  know¬ 
ledge  of  the  town.  She  was  a  woman  of  no 
ordinary  note,  and  horn  to  command  no  ordinary 
share  of  attention  and  respect.  In  selfwill,  strong 
feeling;  and  decision  of  character,  she  had  few 
equals;  and  in  circumference  and  ponderosity, 
beat  even  Mrs.  Giles.  But,  like  the  weather  in 
April,  she  was  of  a  temperament  somewhat 
changeable.  Or,  like  the  Douglas  of  Home 

ft  .  .  .  mild  with  the  mild, 

But  with  the  forward  she  was  as  fierce  as  fire !” 

she  kept  a  little  bakery,  and  sustained  her  inde¬ 
pendence  and  the  honors  of  her  house  by  selling 
gingerbread.  I  was  of  course  a  frequent  visitor. 
Seeing  me  one  day  in  her  shop  rudely  pushed 


RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS.  41 

aside  by  a  boy  much  stouter  than  myself,  and 
perceiving  that  I  was  mortified  by  the  insult,  she 
thrust  the  aggressor  out  of  doors,  and  turning  to 
me,  said,  “  never  mind,  never  mind,  (patting  me 
on  the  head  consolingly,)  you’ll  make  a  man  worth 
a  dozen  of  him,  yet —  You’ll  be  a  gentleman,  and 
he  never  will.”  Not  a  word  of  that  speech  was 
ever  forgotten.  A  part  of  the  prophecy  I  was 
determined  to  make  good.  I  felt  it  as  a  sort  of 
confidential  endorsement,  which  I  was  bound  in 
honor  to  protect :  as  I  now  feel  bound  to  preserve 
and  protect  the  memory  of  her  that  made  it. 

I  shall  venture  to  present  the  reader  with  one 
sketch  more :  it  is  of  the  celebrated 

HANNAH  BARNARD. 

A  name,  which  I  have  already  had  occasion,  inci¬ 
dentally,  to  mention.  Her  reputation  was  not 
confined  to  the  limits  of  the  city,  nor  even  to  the 
extended  circle  of  the  Society  of  Friends,  to  which 
she  belonged.  She  had  traveled  in  Europe,  and 
of  course  had  seen  something  of  the  world.  She 
had  shaken  hands  with  the  great  apostle  of  negro 
freedom  (Matthew  Clarkson),  and  had  conversed 
with  the  savans  of  Edinburgh,  of  Paris  and  of 
London.  Still,  she  was  viewed  by  her  quaker 
friends  with  an  unfavorable  eye  —  she  was  looked 


42  RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS. 

upon  as  one  of  those  new  and  uncertain  lights, 
which  are  rather  calculated  to  alarm  than  to  i Eli¬ 
minate,  ■ — •  to  darken,  rather  than  to  decorate  the 
sphere  in  which  they  move.  But  the  true  secret 
of  their  doubts  and  dislikes  was  to  he  found  in 
the  fact,  that  “Aunt  Hannah”  (as  she  was  fami¬ 
liarly  called,)  knew  more  than  they  did.  She  had 
certainly  read  and  thought,  and  traveled  a  good 
deal  more  than  her  neighbors:  a  good  deal 
more,  indeed,  than  they  thought  becoming  a  wo¬ 
man  belonging  to  the  society  of  friends.  She  was 
indeed  of  a  singularly  inquisitive,  not  to  say  phi¬ 
losophical  turn  of  mind.  She  had  pried,  and  was 
continually  prying  into  the  nature  of  things ;  and 
tracing  the  learned  and  analogical  lines  of  causes 
and  effects.  She  had  looked  into  my  Lord  Bacon, 
and  had  probably  turned  over  the  philosophical 
pages  of  Hume  and  Gibbon.  She  had,  inconti¬ 
nently,  strayed  along  the  coniines  of  theology, 
with  Priestly  and  Paley,  and  even  wandered  into 
the  regions  of  metaphisics  and  critiques  with  Bol- 
ingbroke  and  Bayle. 

But  what  more  sorely  puzzled  and  perplexed 
her  quaker  friends,  was  her  frequent  quotations 
from  heathen  icriters,  and  her  familiar  use  of  latin 
words.  I  tell  thee,  Richard,  said  she,  to  one  of 
the  squaretoed  elders  of  the  church,  “I  tell  thee 


RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS.  43 

Richard,  thy  ipse  dixit  doesn’t  pass  for  law  with 
me”  and  for  this,  and  similar  transgressions 
against  the  canons  of  ignorance,  she  was  “  read 
out  of  meeting.” 

Her  husband’s  name  was  Peter,  one  of  the 
kindest-hearted,  best  tempered  and  happiest  men 
that  ever  lived.  Though  poor,  and  earning  his 
bread  by  the  sweat  of  his  brow,  no  prince  was 
richer,  and  no  king  ever  sat  upon  his  throne  more 
contentedly  or  more  gloriously,  than  Peter  sat 
upon  his  trucks. 

I  once,  by  some  accident  or  whim,  hoarded 
awhile  with  aunt  Hannah;  hut  the  singular  dis¬ 
tribution  of  the  meals,  soon  obliged  me  to  change 
my  quarters.  I  found  Aunt  Hannah  at  my  room 
door  at  5  o’clock  in  the  morning,  with  the  astound¬ 
ing  intelligence  that  “  breakfast  was  on  the  table, 
and  that  Peter  was  waiting  for  his  coffee.”  At 
half-past  eleven,  (though  twelve  was  the  regular 
hour,)  I  was  summoned  to  dinner,  with  the  stirring 
remark,  that  the  potatoes  would  he  cold  unless  I 
came  quickly. 

But  Hannah  Barnard  was  an  extraordinary 
woman;  somewhat  too  independent  perhaps  of 
the  forms  and  usages  of  the  little  world  in  which 
she  lived;  but  possessed  of  more  talent,  more 
reading,  more  good  sense,  and  more  of  that  direct, 


44  RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS. 

honest  simplicity  of  character,  than  could  he 
found  in  any  dozen  of  the  society  to  which  she 
belonged.  And  yet  all  her  good  qualities,  collect¬ 
ively  mustered,  could  not  save  her  from  the 
penalties  of  quoting  latin  !  she  was  condemned  as 
a  heretic,  and  read  out  of  meeting ! 

There  were  doubtless  many  other  clever  women 
in  the  city  of  Hudson,  but  of  those  rightly  enti¬ 
tled  to  the  epithet  distinguished ,  I  have,  perhaps, 
already  furnished  a  more  than  sufficient  sample. 

The  most  accomplished  woman,  however,  that 
Hudson  ever  gave  birth  to,  was 

MRS. - • 

Though  something  older  than  myself,  she  was 
yet  comparatively  young  when  I  first  had  the 
pleasure  of  making  her  acquaintance.  In  her 
youth  she  must  have  been  eminently  beautiful, 
as  many  striking  evidences  of  it  were,  long  after¬ 
wards,  sufficiently  apparent.  In  her  maturer  age, 
she  united  dignity  with  elegance,  and  taste  with 
judgment.  There  was  a  natural  ease  and  grace 
in  her  conversation,  air  and  manner,  that  are 
seldom  to  be  met  with  even  in  the  most  polished 
circles. 

She  had  a  daughter,  too,  (if  my  memory  serves 
me !)  who,  to  the  rare  accomplishments  of  her 


RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS.  45 

mother,  added  an  air  of  intellectual  beauty  pecu¬ 
liarly  her  own.  This  lady,  unintentionally,  and 
as  I  believe,  all  unconsciously,  threw  a  chain 
about  my  neck,  which,  from  its  tenure  I  found  it 
difficult  to  wear,  and  from  the  potency  of  its  spell, 
still  more  difficult  to  throw  off.  It  was  at  length, 
however,  shivered  to  atoms  by  the  breath  of  the 
fair  lady  herself.  It  is  hardly  necessary  to  add, 
that  its  golden  links  were  soon  after  re-united, 
and  the  mystic  coil  seen  glittering  round  the  neck 
of  another ;  who,  it  must  he  admitted,  won  it  and 
wore  it  like  a  gentleman  and  philosopher.  Nor 
was  the  first  unpremeditated  essay  of  its  power 
wholly  lost.  Its  influence  was  long  felt — never 
repudiated,  never  forgotten.  On  the  contrary,  as 
time  obliterated  the  lines  of  the  original  impres¬ 
sion,  the  rosy  fingers  of  the  imagination  retouch¬ 
ed  them  with  delight. 

Thus,  from  the  dubious  empire  of  passion,  the 
subject  naturally  slid  into  the  more  dubious  region 
of  poetry,  until  at  length  it  became  difficult  to 
distinguish  between  the  realities  of  fact  and  the 
creations  of  fancy,  or  even  to  separate  in  the  mind 
the  one  from  the  other.  But  notwithstanding 
this  mystification,  neither  pride,  nor  vanity,  nor 
the  fear  of  ridicule,  could  tempt  my  memory  to 
throw  a  veil  over  the  record,  —  much  less  to 


46  RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS. 

erase  the  impassioned  passage  from  her  tablets. 

Of  the  young  and  the  beautiful  of  those  days, 
I  may  safely  say,  that  no  city  in  the  union  could 
boast  of  such  a  galaxy  as  that  which  poured  its 
light  on  Hudson.  No  town  of  thrice  its  numbers 
could  count  in  the  hall  of  its  gay  assemblies,  so 
many  beautiful  forms  and  faces.  Even  after  the 
city  had  lost  its  outward  splendor,  after  its  pride 
and  its  prosperity  had  in  a  great  measure  passed 
away,  this  attractive  charm,  this  living  mine  of 
beauty,  still  remained. 

It  is  mournful  to  think,  how  few  of  all  those 
young  and  joyous  spirits  realized  their  morning 
dreams.  Most  of  them,  indeed,  have  already 
passed  to  the  land  of  shadows,  and  of  those  that 
remain,  how  few  can  look  back  upon  the  halcyon 
days  of  early  life,  without  a  mingled  sigh  of  sor¬ 
row  and  delight ! 

There  are,  even  in  this  world,  some  forms  and 
combinations  of  beauty,  which  once  seen  are 
never  forgotten.  There  are  some  voices  too, 
whose  sounds  will  dwell  upon  the  ear  long  after 
the  voice  itself  has  become  mute.  Prominent 
among  my  recollections  of  those  early  days,  is 
the  image  of  one,  (now  no  more !)  in  whom  the 
rarest  excellencies  were  strikingly  combined  —  to 
whose  fine  voice  I  once  listened  with  a  delight, 


RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS.  47 

that  for  the  time  being,  banished  all  other  things 
and  thoughts.  That  voice,  in  richness,  variety 
and  compass,  was  indeed  unequalled:  nor  was 
the  eye  less  delighted  than  the  ear:  the  minstrel 
was  as  fascinating  as  the  melody.  Her  hair  was 
as  dark  as  the  wing  of  the  raven- — her  eye  of  the 
deep  and  “bonny  blue.” 

I  have  heard  and  seen  most  of  the  celebrated 
female  vocalists  of  the  last  half  century,  as  well 
indigenous  as  exotic ;  and  yet  to  my  taste,  and  in 
my  judgment,  they  were  in  every  respect  —  in 
form  and  feature,  in  power  and  pathos,  mere 
“  dowdies  to  fair  Charlotte  Lynes .” 


THE  CLUBS. 

Let  us  now  turn  to  scenes  of  a  rougher  nature. 

It  may  perhaps  be  expected  that  I  should  say 
something  touching  the  political  divisions  and 
party  contests  of  the  town.  But  it  must  he  re¬ 
membered,  that  the  interest  attached  to  local 
feuds,  seldom  survives  the  excitement  of  the  day ; 
and  that  the  petty  politics  of  a  village  have  no 
claim  to  notice,  other  than  that  which  grows  out 
of  their  influence  upon  the  character  and  conduct 
of  individuals. 

Of  the  party  politics  of  the  country,  prior  to  the 


48  RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS. 

election  of  Mr.  Jefferson,  I  knew  but  little,  and 
thought  still  less.  But  subsequently  to  that 
period,  I  occasionally  looked  into  the  club  rooms 
of  the  city ;  particularly  into  that  of  the  republi¬ 
can  party.  My  political  predilections  led  me  that 
way  —  but  my  personal  tastes,  I  must  confess, 
inclined  me  the  other.  The  wit,  the  talent,  and 
the  gentlemanly  hearing  of  the  federalists,  were 
to  me  decidedly  more  attractive  than  the  rough 
hut  honest  dogmatism  of  the  republicans.  The 
club  rooms,  however,  of  both  parties,  were  amus¬ 
ing  enough  to  a  third  person:  that  is  to  say,  to 
one  who  cared  not  a  brass  farthing  for  the  politics 
or  the  opinions  of  either. 

The  meetings  of  the  republicans  were  held  in 
an  old  store,  whose  shelves  were  still  standing, 
and  whose  drapery  of  dust  and  cobwebs  had  re¬ 
mained  undisturbed  for  twenty  years.  There, 
during  the  winter  solstice,  round  a  red  hot  stove, 
in  a  heated  atmosphere  blue  with  tobacco  smoke, 
upon  old  pine  benches  and  wooden  bottomed 
chairs,  sat  the  great  antifederal  fathers  of  the  city ! 
The  word  republican,  was  then  just  growing  into 
favor ;  but  Federal  and  Antifederal,  were  still  the 
party  designations  of  the  day.  The  bugle  note  of 
democracy  had  not  yet  been  sounded ;  nor  had  the 
philosophy  of  radicalism  been  debated  in  the  clubs. 


RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS.  49 

Among  the  most  prominent  of  the  fathers,  above 
referred  to,  was  Mr.  Robert  Jenkins,  —  a  gentle¬ 
man  of  high  respectability,  though  somewhat 
abrupt  and  decisive  in  his  tone  and  manner. 
The  next  in  point  of  dignity,  was  Judge  Dayton, 
a  good  citizen  and  an  upright  man :  familiar  with 
the  ,£10  act,  and  fond  of  argumentation— reason¬ 
ing  upon  all  things,  hut  in  all  things  unreasonable, 
— never  convinced,  and  never  convincing.  There 
too,  was  old  Squire  Worth,  —  a  man  of  integrity 
and  good  sense,  hut  excessively  odd.  He  was  a 
short  thick-set  man,  round  shouldered  and  red 
haired.  He  was  once  induced  to  sit  for  his  por¬ 
trait,  hut  quarrelled  with  the  artist  for  making 
him  look,  as  he  said,  “like  a  one  story  house  with 
the  chimney  a  fire!”  Next  comes  Mr.  Robert 
Taylor,  —  a  stout,  well-dressed,  portly  looking 
personage ;  a  little  obstinate  at  times,  and  a  little 
crusty  withal,  hut  a  sound  republican,  or  what 
would  now-a-days  he  termed  a  thorough-going 
democrat ;  though  to  my  eye,  his  clean  shirt,  huff 
vest,  and  white  top  hoots,  betrayed  a  leaning  the 
other  way :  And  there,  in  the  same  circle,  sat  my 
old  friend,  Capt.  Alexander  Coffin,  one  of  nature’s 
noblemen;  a  man  open  and  above  board  in  all 
things ;  frank,  generous,  warm-hearted,  and  brave 
as  Caesar.  But,  withal,  hot  as  a  pepper  pot,  and 


50  RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS. 

fierce  as  a  north-easter;  yet  neither  rude,  aggres¬ 
sive,  nor  implacable.  Yes,  sir,  said  he  to  a  young 
man,  who  to  explain  some  matter,  then  in  hot 
dispute,  laid  his  hand  upon  his  shoulder,  and 
asked  him  to  step  to  the  door  with  him.  “  Yes, 
sir,”  said  the  old  man,  (then  over  eighty,)  mis¬ 
taking  the  object  of  the  call,  “I’m  ready  for  you 
—  fist  or  pistols,  I  don’t  care  a  d — n  which  !” 
The  absurdity  of  the  thing  set  the  whole  room 
in  a  roar,  and  the  old  captain,  catching  the  idea, 
and  coming  down  in  an  instant,  joined  heartily 
in  the  laugh.  Such  was  Captain  Coffin, — a  man 
whose  name  I  never  hear,  and  of  whom  I  never 
think,  without  a  feeling  of  deep  respect  for  his 
many  noble  and  manly  qualities.  He  was  in 
fact  the  noblest  roman  of  them  all. 

There  is  another  name  which  ought  not  to  be 
left  out  of  this  catalogue  of  political  dignitaries, 
— fit  is  that  of  David  Lawrence  —  a  man  of  great 
personal  respectability,  keen  observation,  and 
ready  wit;  of  strong  sense,  and  stronger  preju¬ 
dices.  In  his  old  age,  gouty,  irritable  and  sarcas¬ 
tic;  seldom  in  humor  with  himself,  and  never 
over  complaisant  to  others.  On  hearing  that  the 
Bank  of  Nantucket  had  been  robbed,  —  “Ugh!” 
said  the  old  man,  with  an  air  of  contempt,  “  I 
suppose  they  forgot  to  pull  the  string  in!” 


RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS.  51 

The  last  of  this  school  whose  name  I  shall 
venture  to  mention,  is  Captain  Hathaway  —  a 
very  worthy  citizen,  but  troubled  with  the  asthma, 
and  frequently  suffering  from  the  excellence  of 
his  dinner;  always  talking  of  the  interests  of  the 
nation,  but  thinking  only  of  his  own ;  calculating 
freights  rather  than  majorities,  and  wisely  relying 
with  more  confidence  upon  his  pocket  than  upon 
his  party.  Still,  I  repeat,  he  was  a  worthy  citi¬ 
zen,  and  though  close,  and  somewhat  phthisicy, 
an  honest  man. 

The  federal  club  was  a  very  different  affair; 
being  principally  composed  of  lawyers  and  men 
of  distinguished  ability.  The  celebrated  Elisha 
Williams  was  the  master  spirit.  Their  occasional 
meetings  w'ere  held  in  the  best  furnished  apart¬ 
ments  of  Swartz’s  or  Holly’s  tavern.  It  is  hardly 
necessary  to  add,  that  where  Mr.  Williams  pre¬ 
sided,  there  was  confidence  and  cordiality,  unity 
of  thought  and  unity  of  opinion;  wit  and  satire, 
and  eloquence, — professional  eminence  and  poli¬ 
tical  ability.  But  in  this  free  country,  the  race 
is  not  always  to  the  swift,  nor  the  battle  to  the 
strong.  Political  ability  is  often  unavailing,  and 
political  eminence  notoriously  short-lived.  Who 
can  look  back  upon  the  party  squabbles  of  the 
last  thirty  years,  and  reflect  upon  the  hollowness 


52  RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS. 

of  their  pretensions,  without  amazement  ?  Or  upon 
the  passions  they  excited,  without  contempt ! 

But  after  all,  this  is  rather  a  political  than  a 
civil  world,  and  it  is  therefore  our  duty,  as  it  cer¬ 
tainly  is  our  pleasure,  to  sketch,  (ere  they  dissolve 
into  thin  air)  the  flitting  forms  of  the  politicians 
of  our  day,  and  thus  confer  a  favor  upon  the  fu¬ 
ture  annalist,  and  a  benefit  upon  posterity. 

Mr.  Williams  was  not  only  the  great  federal 
leader  of  the  county  of  Columbia,  but  the  most 
influential  politician  of  his  party  in  the  State. 
Next  to  Mr.  Williams,  stood  Jacob  Rutsen  Van 
Rensselaer,  a  gentleman  of  distinguished  ability; 
learned,  eloquent  and  polite :  the  cleverest  man, 
perhaps,  of  his  race  and  name.  Then  came  Thos. 
P.  Grosvenor;  well  educated  and  widely  read, 
but,  in  his  younger  days,  careless,  indolent,  and 
apparently  unambitious:  though  subsequently 
(during  his  brief  parliamentary  career)  distin¬ 
guished  as  one  of  the  ablest  debaters  on  the  floor 
of  congress.  Of  the  same  political  school,  though 
not  of  the  same  order  of  talents,  was  Hezekiah 
Lord  Hosmer — one  of  the  most  majestic  looking 
men  in  the  State,  and  who,  I  used  to  imagine, 
resembled  Louis  the  XIV.,  as  I  fancied  my  old 
friend  Riker  did  that  heathen  poet  whom  men 
call  Horace.  Hosmer  was  a  lawyer  by  profession 


RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS.  53 

only.  He  played,  however,  an  admirable  game 
of  whist,  and  had  a  just  taste  in  poetry.  These 
accomplishments  rendered  him  an  agreeable  com¬ 
panion,  except  when  you  played  a  wrong  card ,  or 
hazarded  an  indiscreet  opinion  as  to  the  merits  of 
some  favorite  classic.  To  the  above,  might  he 
added  the  names  of  Backus  and  of  Bay,  of  M’Kin- 
stry,  Edmonds,  Hyatt,  Hubbell,  Van  Hoesen,  and 
forty  others. 

Of  the  lay  members  of  the  party,  whose  politi¬ 
cal  strength  lay  mainly  in  their  votes,  the  most 
conspicuous  as  well  as  the  most  respectable  were 
Cotton  Gelston  and  Reuben  Folger.  The  latter 
was,  indeed,  one  of  the  oldest  and  wealthiest 
merchants  in  the  city ;  strong  in  his  political  pre¬ 
judices,  hut  kind  in  his  feelings  and  liberal  in  his 
hospitality.  The  election  of  Mr.  Jefferson,  he 
used  to  say,  spoke  for  itself;  it  was  a  signal  to 
the  nation,  to  heave  to,  under  bare  poles .  Prior  to 
the  new  philosophy  of  gun-boats  and  embargoes, 
he  had  always,  he  said,  been  enabled  to  find  a 
keg  of  dollars  under  his  counter,  but  never  after 
that  period.  The  ship  of  state  (to  use  his  own 
nautical  phrase)  had  been  turned  out  of  her  course, 
and  yawed  about  by  a  lubberly  helmsman,  until 
the  voyage  was  ruined  and  half  the  owners  bro¬ 
ken.  Like  the  malcontents  of  the  present  day,  he 


54  RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS. 

attributed  every  evil  (fiscal  and  physical  included) 
to  the  party  in  power. 


MAJOR  FROTH INGHAM. 

Though  somewhat  aloof  from  the  political 
world,  I  must  not  omit  to  mention  the  name  of 
Major  Frothingham,  a  name  always  associated,  in 
my  mind,  with  the  word  gentleman.  His  personal 
appearance,  his  address,  action,  air  and  manner, 
warranted  the  association.  There  was  an  ease 
and  a  freedom  in  his  carriage,  an  open  frankness 
in  his  countenance,  an  unpremeditated  courtesy 
in  whatever  he  said  or  did,  that  bespoke  a  man¬ 
liness  of  character,  which  no  dress  could  disguise, 
no  occupation  conceal.  He  kept,  at  one  time,  I 
remember  a  small  retail  store  near  the  market ; 
and  even  the  humiliating  act,  selling  a  glass  of 
rum  to  a  loafer,  did  not  seem  in  the  slightest  de¬ 
gree  to  detract  from  his  dignity,  or  compromit  his 
character  as  a  gentleman.  There  he  stood  behind 
his  little  counter,  waiting  upon  his  patched  and 
piebald  customers,  with  the  careless  ease  and 
gentlemanly  air  of  a  man  engaged  in  the  higher 
occupations  of  life.  Though  there  was  nothing 
cold  or  formal  in  his  aspect,  and  nothing  approach¬ 
ing  to  austerity  in  his  manner,  yet  even  imperti- 


RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS.  55 

nence  became  mute,  and  rudeness  grew  civil  in 
his  presence.  His  fine  countenance  and  the  tone 
of  his  voice,  were,  indeed,  alone  sufficient  to 
command  respect,  and  give  dignity  to  the  lowest 
employment.  He  was,  in  fact,  one  of  the  fortu¬ 
nate  few,  who  are  born  gentlemen ;  and  who,  re¬ 
ceiving  the  impress  from  nature,  are  not  to  he 
rendered  otherwise,  by  time,  chance,  or  circum¬ 
stance.  It  is  not  in  the  power  of  fortune  to  hu¬ 
miliate  such  a  man,  much  less  to  place  him  in  the 
catalogue  of  the  vulgar.  It  is  hardly  necessary 
to  say  that  he  was  universally  and  deservedly 
respected  and  esteemed. 

THE  CHURCH. 

Hudson,  though  she  has  figured  greatly  at  the 
bar  and  on  the  bench,  in  the  senate,  and  even  in 
the  executive  chair ;  though  she  has  added  to  the 
laurels  of  the  army  and  the  navy,  and  performed 
wonders  in  the  political  world,  yet  she  has  con¬ 
tributed  nothing  to  the  splendor,  and  but  little  to 
the  comfort  of  the  church.  This  can  be  reasona¬ 
bly  accounted  for,  only  by  a  reference  to  the  cha¬ 
racter  and  condition  of  her  several  religious 
congregations. 

In  the  early  and  more  prosperous  days  of  the 

T 


56  RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS. 

city,  the  members  of  the  “  Society  of  Friends” 
greatly  exceeded  in  number  those  of  any  other 
religious  sect  —  while  among  the  sea-faring  por¬ 
tion  of  the  population,  were  to  he  found  many 
who  belonged  to  no  particular  church,  and  con¬ 
sequently  paid  tribute  to  none. 

This  abstraction  of  so  large  a  number  of  the 
inhabitants,  left  to  the  regular  churches  scarce  a 
moiety  of  the  whole.  Their  respective  congre¬ 
gations,  therefore,  were  necessarily  small  —  too 
small,  indeed,  to  admit  of  their  adding  materially 
either  to  the  pride  or  the  dignity  of  the  church. 
It  must  he  confessed  that  a  spirit  of  economy  ex¬ 
isted  in  those  days,  which  in  the  present  would 
he  considered  as  narrow  and  parsimonious;  and 
that  this  virtue  was  more  strikingly  manifested 
in  matters  relating  to  the  church,  than  in  those 
appertaining  to  secular  affairs.  It  was  an  econo¬ 
my  that  looked  to  the  present  rather  than  the 
future,  and  appealed  to  the  pocket  rather  than  to 
the  understanding.  In  short,  it  was  an  economy, 
in  one  particular,  strikingly  in  unison  with  that 
of  the  Friends  —  it  had  no  taste  for  religious 
architecture,  biblical  learning,  or  pulpit  elo¬ 
quence. 

Of  the  regular  denominations,  the  Friends  were 
not  only  the  most  numerous,  but  the  most  weal- 


RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS.  57 

thy  and  influential.  Of  their  church  discipline  I 
have  spoken  elsewhere. 

Next  to  the  Friends  in  point  of  numbers,  and 
next  in  power,  were  the  Presbyterians.  The 
church  of  this  congregation  was  the  first  that 
was  built  in  the  city.  The  site  was  well  chosen, 
commanding,  as  it  did,  a  beautiful  view  of  the 
south  and  west  ■ —  the  hay,  the  river,  and  the  dis¬ 
tant  mountains.  A  view,  which  from  its  position 
on  the  southern  verge  of  the  city,  no  time  or  cir¬ 
cumstance  could  obstruct.  But  the  good  taste  of 
its  elders  was  not  in  all  things  equally  manifest. 
They  caused  their  names  to  he  inscribed  on  tables 
of  stone,  and  conspicuously  inserted  in  the  outer 
wall  of  the  building  on  each  side  of  the  entrance 
door :  forgetful,  it  would  seem,  of  those  truthful 
lines  of  the  poet,  that  he 

1 1  Who  builds  a  house  to  God,  and  not  to  fame, 

Will  never  mark  the  marble  with  his  name.” 

And  yet  they  evidently  held  in  due  remembrance 
those  other  lines,  which  refer  to  a  village  pastor, 
who  was  deemed  to  be 

“ - passing  rich,  with  forty  pounds  a  year.” 

Taking  this  as  a  liberal  standard  of  compensa¬ 
tion,  and  practicing  upon  its  virtues,  their  preach¬ 
er  starved,  —  and  the  congregation  slept ! 

The  Episcopalians,  though  numbering  at  the 


58  RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS. 

time  scarce  a  dozen  families,  also  built  a  church, 
—  but  which  they  failed  to  finish :  and  which  for 
many  years  was  without  any  regular  or  establish¬ 
ed  minister.  The  building,  in  the  mean  time, 
was  shut  up,  neglected,  and  in  a  state  of  ruin. 
To  the  honor  of  the  city  it  has  subsequently  been 
repaired,  refitted,  and  the  path  that  led  to  it  greatly 
improved.  The  spire,  however,  (that  crowning 
member)  is  still  wanting  —  and  the  church  still 
stands,  as  it  were, 

“  Obtruncated  in  the  traveler’s  horizon !” 

The  Methodists  (the  Rev.  Sidney  Smith’s  vitu¬ 
peration  of  the  sect  to  the  contrary  notwithstand¬ 
ing)  have  always  appeared  to  me,  in  spite  of  some 
idle  extravagancies,  to  possess  more  genuine 
piety,  than  any  other  religious  denomination  in 
the  United  States.  Thirty  years  ago  I  found  the 
Methodists  of  the  south  and  west,  the  only  sect 
whose  religion  appeared  to  me  to  be  worthy  of 
the  name. 

Of  the  Catholics,  I  have  nothing  to  say — for 
there  were  none  in  the  city ;  or  if  there  were, 
they  had  no  priest,  nor  place  of  worship. 

Of  the  Jews,  there  was  but  one ,  and  that  one 
was  supposed  to  be  the  last  of  the  lost  tribe  !  He 
certainly  had  that  appearance. 


RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS.  59 

It  is  a  singlar  circumstance,  • —  I  think  I  may- 
say  a  singular  fact  in  the  chronicles  of  the  city, 
that  with  the  retrogression  of  its  business  inte¬ 
rests,  with  the  decline  of  its  wealth  and  prosperi¬ 
ty;  in  one  word,  with  the  fall  of  its  temporal 
pride  and  power,  the  interests  and  the  influence 
of  the  church  revived  and  rose.  It  is  at  least 
certain,  that  its  affairs,  for  some  time  past,  have 
worn,  and  still  wear  a  brighter  aspect,  than  at 
any  of  the  earlier  periods  within  my  memory. 

Of  its  ministers,  (prior  to  the  commencement 
of  the  present  century,)  the  Rev.  Ezra  Sampson 
was  among  the  most  distinguished  for  classical 
and  biblical  learning.  He  was  indeed  an  excel¬ 
lent  writer,  a  man  of  sound  practical  sense,  and 
great  purity  of  mind.  His  selection  of  the  “  beau¬ 
ties  of  the  Bible,”  with  explanatory  notes  and 
comments,  was  not  only  an  useful,  but  an  elegant 
and  most  attractive  work. 

I  ought,  for  old  acquaintance  sake,  to  mention 
one  other  —  the  Rev.  Mr.  Sears.  We  were  for 
some  time  fellow  boarders  in  the  same  house, 
though  fortunately  for  myself,  as  it  regards  food 
and  raiment,  not  fellow  laborers  in  the  same  field. 
He  was  a  man  of  moderate  talents,  without  art, 
without  force,  and  without  even  an  occasional 
gleam  of  eloquence :  but  honest,  warm-hearted, 


60  RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS. 

and  of  the  most  exemplary  piety.  His  sermons 
were  exceedingly  dull,  but  not  exceedingly  tedious 
—  for  they  had  one  redeeming,  I  may  say  one 
admirable  quality,  DC^they  were  short.  In  this 
particular  they  were  in  excellent  keeping  with 
his  compensation  and  the  patience  of  his  hearers. 
Four  hundred  dollars,  if  my  memory  serves  me, 
was  the  amount  of  the  one,  and  fifteen  minutes 
the  extent  of  the  other. 

When  I  think  of  the  amiable  simplicity  of  his 
character,  a  feeling  of  personal  respect  mingles 
with  the  thought :  when  I  reflect  upon  the  judi¬ 
cious  brevity  of  his  sermons,  I  accuse  myself  of 
having  unjustly  appreciated  the  character  of  his 
understanding. 

To  each  of  these  gentlemen,  and  I  believe  to 
several  others,  was  presented  the  hard  alternative, 
of  ceasing  to  eat,  or  ceasing  to  preach.  A  sense 
of  duty,  no  doubt,  struggled  with  the  question,  hut 
the  frailty  of  nature  prevailed,  and  they  chose  the 
latter. 


THE  DOCTORS. 

Of  the  medical  faculty  of  the  town,  it  becomes 
me  to  say  something.  Hudson  has  indeed  been 
noted  for  the  eminence  of  its  physicians.  Among 


RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS.  61 

those  of  an  early  date,  Doctors  Hamilton  and 
Wheaton  were  perhaps  the  most  conspicuous. 
At  a  later  period,  Tallman,  Malcolm  and  White 
were  distinguished  for  their  skill  and  ability ; 
particularly  the  latter,  who  was  also  eminent  as 
a  surgeon. 

Hamilton  was  an  original,  both  in  mind  and 
manner — and  I  believe  I  may  add,  in  practice 
too.  His  three  great  remedies,  were  calomel, 
hark,  and  brandy !  He  was,  nevertheless,  a  well 
educated,  strong-minded  man ;  hut  fond  of  hear¬ 
ing  himself  talk,  and  careless  of  time,  he  often 
rendered  himself  disagreeable  by  his  long  visits, 
and  still  longer  stories.  He  owned  a  tract  of  land 
in  the  “Genesee  country,”  then  a  distant  wilder¬ 
ness  :  and  I  remember  hearing  him  relate  to  my 
father,  an  incident  which  took  place  on  his  first 
visit  to  that  new  settlement.  As  the  story  ran, 
he  was  alone  and  on  foot  in  the  woods,  walking 
slowly  along,  totally  unarmed;  when,  all  of  a 
sudden,  he  heard  a  low,  rustling  noise,  and  cast¬ 
ing  his  eyes  round,  he  met  the  fierce  glare  of  a 
panther,  crouched  in  the  path  directly  in  front  of 
him,  and  hut  a  few  yards  distant.  What  was  to 
he  done,  was  a  question,  which  (as  he  gravely  re¬ 
marked  to  my  father)  he  had  no  time  to  discuss. 
But  catching,  as  he  said,  an  idea  from  despera- 


62  RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS. 

tion,  he  instantly  resolved  to  become  the  assail¬ 
ant.  He  had  on  at  the  time  a  dark  camlet  cloak, 
lined  with  red  baize,  which  he  contrived  to  whirl 
suddenly  over  his  head,  in  such  a  manner  as  to 
turn  the  red  side  out,  giving  at  the  same  time  a 
furious  yell,  and  springing  directly  at  the  pan¬ 
ther — who,  alarmed  at  the  fiery  aspect,  or  astoun¬ 
ded  at  the  sudden  metamorphosis  of  his  intended 
prey,  made  an  ignoble  and  precipitate  retreat, 
disappearing  at  a  single  bound  ! 

What  the  reader  may  think  of  the  probabilities 
of  the  story,  I  knew  not,  but  I  wish  it  to  he  dis¬ 
tinctly  understood,  that  ’tis  the  Doctor's  story,  not 
mine. 

Of  Doctor  Tallman,  I  can  truly  say,  that  he 
was  one  of  the  finest  looking  men  in  the  city; 
large,  portly,  well-dressed,  and  of  the  most  po¬ 
lished  and  gentlemanly  manners.  He  was,  in¬ 
deed,  in  personal  appearance,  air  and  manner,  the 
beau  ideal  of  the  medical  faculty.  It  is  not  sur¬ 
prising,  that  with  these  attractive  qualities,  he 
should  be  a  favorite  with  nearly  all  the  women 
in  the  town,  nor  that  they  should  have  secured  to 
him  a  larger  share  of  practice,  (particularly  in 
the  most  profitable  line  of  his  profession)  than 
was  enjoyed  by  any  other  physician  in  the  place. 

Malcolm  was  a  gentleman  in  the  highest  sense 


RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS.  63 

of  the  word  —  a  man  of  education,  of  talent,  and 
of  science.  But,  unable  or  unwilling  to  stoop  to 
the  familiar  arts  and  gossiping  language  of  the 
nursery — in  other  words,  to  conciliate  ignorance 
and  flatter  vanity,  (so  essential  to  medical  suc¬ 
cess)  he  literally  starved  in  his  profession. 

Doctor  White,  it  is  needless  to  say,  had  all  the 
practice  he  desired — and  has  left  behind  him  a 
reputation,  equal  to  that  of  any  other  physician 
in  the  State  —  in  some  branches  of  his  profession, 
perhaps  superior.  He  was  a  man  of  great  pro¬ 
bity  of  mind  and  purity  of  character. 


LOAFERS. 

I  now  turn  to  a  class  of  personages,  differing 
in  many  respects  from  any  that  I  have  yet  at¬ 
tempted  to  describe.  They  formed,  however,  a 
portion  of  the  population  of  the  city,  or  its  imme¬ 
diate  vicinity,  and  were,  moreover,  too  prominent 
in  their  day,  to  he  omitted  in  a  body  of  reminis¬ 
cences  which  profess  to  embrace  the  physical 
aspect  and  personal  peculiarities  of  the  town. 

Among  the  most  singular  and  striking  animals 
of  the  biped  species,  which  were  to  he  met  with 
in  the  streets  of  Hudson,  was  a  free  negro  by  the 
name  of  Tite,  and  a  white  negro  by  the  name  of 


64  RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS. 

in  mind  and  venerable  in  appearance.  The 
colored  servant  by  whom  he  was  led,  was  no 
unimportant  personage.  He  was  his  man-friday 
- — his  man  Peter — his  all  in  all — for  without  his 
aid,  locomotion  was  impossible.  What  was  not 
a  little  remarkable,  was  the  fact,  that  Peter  re¬ 
sembled  his  master  in  almost  every  particular, 
save  his  gout  and  his  blindness.  He  was  of  the 
same  height  and  make,  as  well  dressed,  nearly  as 
old,  and  quite  as  grey.  He  was,  moreover,  as 
independent,  as  important  and  as  irritable.  At  a 
little  distance,  it  was  indeed  difficult  to  tell  which 
was  master  and  which  was  man. 

Nothing  could  be  more  amusing  than  their 
conversation  and  disputes  when  moving  together, 
arm  in  arm,  down  Pearl-street  and  across  State, 
to  Lewis’s  tavern, — a  haunt,  to  which  they  re¬ 
sorted  daily,  whenever  the  weather  would  permit. 
It  was  indeed  the  haunt  of  a  good  many  other 
distinguished  individuals  of  those  days.  All  the 
quid  nuncs,  news  mongers,  segar  smokers,  and 
back-gammon  players,  together  with  a  long  list 
of  worthies,  who  were  constitutionally  thirsty 
between  twelve  and  one  o’clock,  made  Lewis’s 
their  head  quarters.  Could  the  old  gentleman 
have  seen  all  the  company  there  assembled, 
listened  to  their  language,  and  witnessed  their 


RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS.  65 

libations  at  the  bar,  he  would  probably  have 
relished  their  society  something  less  than  he  did. 

But,  be  that  as  it  may — in  his  frequent  peregri¬ 
nations  to  and  from  that  celebrated  tavern,  it  was 
my  special  pleasure  (boy  like)  to  throw  myself  a 
few  paces  in  his  rear,  and  listen  to  the  dialogue 
that  was  sure  to  take  place  between  him  and  his 
man  Peter.  It  was  generally  in  a  pretty  sharp 
tone  of  voice,  and  almost  always  upon  a  dis- 
putacious  key.  In  crossing  State-street  one 
day,  on  their  return  from  Lewis’s,  it  commenced 
thus : — Peter,  said  the  old  man,  you’re  leading 
me  into  the  mud.  There’s  no  mud  here,  says 
Peter.  But  I  say  there  is,  retorted  the  old  man 
fiercely.  I  say  there  aint,  said  Peter.  D — n  it, 
sir,  said  the  old  man,  giving  his  arm  a  twitch 
and  coming  to  a  full  halt,  don’t  you  suppose  I 
know  the  nature  of  the  ground  on  which  I 
stand?  No,  says  Peter,  don’t  spose  you  know 
any  such  thing;  you  ony  stept  one  foot  off  the 
stones,  that’s  all.  Well,  well,  come  along  then; 
what  do  you  keep  me  standing  here  in  the  street 
for?  I  don’t  keep  you,  said  Peter;  you  keep  your¬ 
self.  Well,  well,  come  along,  said  the  old  man, 
and  let  me  know  when  I  come  to  the  gutter.  You 
are  in  the  gutter  now,  said  Peter.  The  devil  I 
am !  said  the  old  man ;  then  pausing  a  moment, 

I 


66  RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS. 

along  the  margin  of  which  ran  a  narrow  winding 
foot  path,  leading  to  the  city.  Our  object  was  to 
get  under  cover  as  quick  as  possible,  and  conceal 
ourselves  among  the  cattails  and  alders  that  grew 
thick  along  the  water’s  edge,  and  thus  if  possible 
elude  the  pursuit  of  the  enemy.  On  striking  the 
foot  path,  we  found  ourselves  within  a  few  yards 
of  a  deep  and  narrow  gorge  of  one  of  the  ravines 
into  which  the  waters  of  the  bay  flowed  at  high 
tide,  and  over  which,  a  single  plank  twelve  or 
fourteen  feet  in  length,  had  been  thrown  by  way  of 
bridge  to  the  line  of  path.  This  we  crossed,  and 
knew  that  our  pursuer  must  also  cross  it  before  he 
could  reach  us.  Though  not  well  versed  in  the 
science  of  retreat,  (having  little  or  no  acquaint¬ 
ance  at  that  time  with  either  Xenophon  or  Mo¬ 
reau,)  yet  we  had,  in  common  with  all  the  weaker 
animals,  an  instinctive  knowledge  of  its  philoso¬ 
phy.  We  saw,  and  immediately  availed  ourselves 
of  the  advantages  which  the  bridge  afforded 
us  to  check  the  advance  of  the  enemy.  By 
uniting  our  forces,  we  shoved  back  the  plank  to 
the  very  edge  of  the  ravine ;  just  leaving  it  ground 
enough  upon  our  side  to  support  its  weight,  and 
no  more.  This  done,  we  concealed  ourselves  in 
the  grass  behind  the  bushes,  within  ear-shot  of 
the  bridge,  and  waited  the  issue.  In  a  few  min- 


RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS.  67 

utes  we  heard  his  approach.  On  he  came,  as 
furious  as  Pharoah  in  his  pursuit  of  the  children 
of  Israel.  Hark !  he  is  now  within  ten  yards  of 
the  plank — now  on  it  —  and  now,  down  he  goes, 
head  over  heels,  into  the  water  !  We  heard  the 
splash  and  flounder ,  and  knew  his  position  exactly. 
The  water  was  three  or  four  feet  deep :  the  bot¬ 
tom  was  adhesive  mud, — the  sides  of  the  gorge 
were  slippery  clay,  almost  perpendicular,  and  the 
edge  of  the  bank  at  least  six  feet  above  the  water. 
He  had  one  of  two  things  to  do,  either  to  swim 
out  into  the  bay  and  then  round  the  cape  of  the 
outlet ;  or  to  flounder  up  the  ravine  until  he  could 
find  a  more  convenient  landing  place.  Either 
operation  would  occupy  more  time  than  we  should 
require  to  place  ourselves  beyond  his  reach.  We 
knew,  moreover,  that  he  would  not  be  in  a  condi¬ 
tion  to  renew  the  race :  feeling  therefore  perfectly 
safe,  we  rose  from  our  lair  as  bold  as  young  lions, 
and  shouted  to  him  to  come  on  !  The  only  answer 
was  an  inarticulate  grumbling  and  a  renewed 
splashing  in  the  water.  After  an  additional  shout 
or  two,  by  way  of  defiance,  we  pursued  our  course 
leisurely  along  the  foot  path  towards  the  city, 
leaving  our  enemy  in  the  muddy  gorge,  alone  in 
his  glory! 

There  were  in  those  days  two  other  stars  wan- 


68  RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS. 

dering  in  the  same  hemisphere,  of  a  somewhat 
kindred  character.  The  one  was  familiarly  known 
by  the  name  of  “  Old  Brooks,”  the  other,  by  that 
of  Copper  John  !  Brooks  belonged  to  the  antiqui¬ 
ties  of  the  old  world.  He  certainly  had  all  the 
appearances  of  an  ante-diluvian.  Yet  I  never 
could  learn  that  his  history  had  been  traced  fur¬ 
ther  hack  than  to  the  period  of  the  Van  Tromps  of 
the  Netherlands.  He  came,  it  was  said,  from 
Amsterdam,  in,  or  about,  the  year  1652,  and  was 
supposed  to  be  at  the  time,  somewhere  in  the 
vicinity  of  one  hundred  years  of  age !  But  I  do 
not  vouch  for  the  acc  uracy  of  these  traditions.  I 
first  saw  him  in  1788:  and  after  the  lapse  of 
eighteen  or  twenty  years,  he  still  appeared  in  all 
respects  unchanged.  His  habits  were  unaltered, 
his  faculties  unabated,  and  the  light  of  his  eye 
undimmed.  Time,  in  that  interval  at  least,  seem 
ed  to  have  made  no  impression  upon  him.  There 
was,  indeed,  no  place  left  for  a  new  twist  or  a 
new  wrinkle.  As  for  the  ordinary  signs  of  age, 
he  had  long  since  ran  through  the  catalogue,  and 
exhausted  their  number.  His  head,  his  hands, 
and  his  voice,  had  been  shaking,  as  if  with  the 
palsy,  for  half  a  century,  and  were  shaking  still. 
His  little  twinkling  eye  and  the  tip  of  his  nose, 
were  all  that  could  be  seen  of  his  face.  His  lan- 


RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS. 


69 


guage  would  have  puzzled  Horne  Tooke  himself, 
and  might  have  added  a  new  chapter  to  the  “Di¬ 
versions  of  Purley.”  It  was  a  dialect  compounded 
of  three  other  dialects — high  dutch,  low  dutch, 
and  broken  english,  and  to  those  unused  to  it, 
utterly  unintelligible .  His  outside  garment,  which 
was  always  the  same,  winter  and  summer,  was 
composed  of  as  many  colors  as  Joseph’s  coat. 
The  original  texture  had  long  since  been  lost  and 
covered  under  a  cloud  of  patches.  His  shoes 
were  fastened  to  his  feet  by  thongs  and  fibres  of 
bark.  He  wore  a  little  cocked  hat,  banded  and 
brailed  with  divers  colored  strings,  which  might, 
from  its  form  and  fashion,  have  been  worn  by  De 
Ruyter  himself.  His  pipe,  black  with  the  smoke 
of  a  thousand  years,  still  answered  the  ends  for 
which  it  was  created,  and  gave  to  his  figure  in  a 
frosty  morning  an  additional  sign  of  vitality. 

He  lived  about  three  miles  from  the  city,  to 
which  he  traveled  on  foot,  twice  or  three  times  a 
week,  the  year  round.  He  carried  a  willow  bas¬ 
ket  strapped  upon  his  back,  filled  with  roots  and 
herbs,  mostly  of  a  medicinal  character.  These 
simples  he  gathered  with  his  own  hands,  and  it 
was  by  the  sale  of  these  he  obtained  his  liveli¬ 
hood.  Old  and  poor  as  he  was,  and  lone  and 
miserable  as  he  seemed,  yet  he  was  never  known 


70  RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS. 

to  beg  or  to  complain.  On  the  contrary,  he  seem¬ 
ed  to  enjoy  good  health,  was  always  cheerful,  and 
apparently  contented. 

Who  will  dare  to  say,  that  old  Brooks  was  not 
watched  by  the  eye,  and  upheld  and  protected  by 
the  hand  of  providence ! 

Copper  John,  though  resembling  Brooks  in  some 
things,  was  very  unlike  him  in  others.  He  had 
no  knowledge  of  the  medical  qualities  of  roots  and 
herbs.  He  had  no  taste  for  the  culling  of  simples, 
and  no  disposition  to  traffic  in  any  thing.  He 
took  no  thought  for  the  morrow,  either  as  to  what 
he  should  eat  or  what  he  should  drink ;  it  was 
sufficient  for  him  to  know  that  he  could  find  his 
way  into  a  kitchen  in  the  day  time,  and  into  a 
barn  at  night. 

But  John  was  in  no  sense  a  responsible  person. 
His  intellectual  pitcher  was  cracked,  and  the  ves¬ 
sel  was  therefore  unfit  for  use.  Yet  he  possessed 
great  bodily  strength,  and  was  certainly  capable 
of  some  things  if  not  others.  He  could  split  wood 
and  fetch  water;  he  could  beg,  too,  but  not  like 
a  beggar;  he  could  work,  but  not  like  a  man;  he 
was  in  size,  a  giant,  but  huge  and  strong  as  he 
was,  he  nevertheless  submitted  to  any  show  of 
authority,  and  put  up  with  any  kind  of  treatment ; 
hence,  he  was  always  in  the  hands  of  the  boys, 


RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS.  71 

who  played  him  an  endless  variety  of  tricks ;  they 
did  him  some  good  and  much  evil;  they  forced 
him  to  work,  and  learned  him  to  drink,  though 
he  had  no  great  taste  for  either.  He  had  a  natu¬ 
ral  antipathy  to  cats,  which  the  hoys  soon  found 
out,  and  John,  to  his  horror,  every  now  and  then, 
found  one  attached  by  a  cord  to  the  tail  of  his 
coat.  His  first  impression,  on  these  occasions, 
was  to  run  and  roar,  —  the  cat  had  no  choice  but 
to  follow  his  example ;  and  such  a  roaring  on  the 
one  side,  and  such  a  caterwauling  on  the  other, 
was  never  heard  before  in  any  civilized  town! 
The  boys  were  in  fact  John’s  best  friends  and 
worst  enemies.  They  were  liberal  in  their  gifts, 
(his  whole  wardrobe  indeed  came  from  them,) 
but  they  made  him  pay  for  their  liberality  in  va¬ 
rious  and  most  annoying  ways.  They  contrived, 
without  his  perceiving  it,  to  tar  the  inside  of 
his  hat;  they  even  put  powder  in  his  pipe,  and 
ipecac  and  ginger  in  his  gin;  all  of  which  he 
bore  like  a  philosopher, — nay,  the  medicated  gin 
he  swallowed  without  making  a  wry  face. 

But  that  which  more  particularly  distinguished 
John  from  all  other  loafers,  cracked  or  uncracked, 
was'his  passion  for  coppers;  and  as  he  was  never 
known  to  part  with  one,  it  was  believed  that  he 
hid  them  in  holes,  or  buried  them  in  the  ground. 

V 


72  RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS. 

He  would  take  no  other  coin,  not  even  as  a  gift, 
and  hence  his  name  of  Copper  John.  He  loiter¬ 
ed  about  the  town  and  its  vicinity  for  some  ten 
or  fifteen  years,  without  any  occupation,  home  or 
common  resting  place ;  and  yet,  was  never  seen 
in  a  suffering  condition.  He  was,  seemingly, 
proof  against  all  diseases,  winds  and  weathers. 
Though  he  readily  comprehended  whatever  was 
said  to  him,  yet  his  mind  was  little  better  than  a 
tabula  rasa. 

At  length,  however,  John  disappeared ;  and,  as 
he  came,  no  one  knew  whence,  so  he  went,  no 
one  knew  whither;  and  hut  for  this  incidental 
notice,  the  knowledge  of  his  existence  on  earth, 
might  have  been  lost  forever ! 

It  has  often  occurred  to  me,  that  if  I  should 
hereafter  meet  with  old  Brooks  and  Copper  John, 
I  should  at  once  be  recognized  as  an  old  acquaint¬ 
ance,  and  receive  a  hearty  shake  of  the  hand  from 
both.  John  would  no  doubt  ask  me,  as  he  had 
done  in  this  world  many  a  time  before  “  what  I 
tied  that  devilish  cat  to  the  tail  of  his  coat  for?” 
And  old  Brooks  would  probably  enquire  whether 
I  had  yet  learned  to  talk  dutch  ! 

Now,  it  may  seem  to  the  reader  that  I  have 
given  to  these  personages  a  degree  of  importance 
disproportioned  to  their  rank  and  station  in  life.  It 


RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS.  73 

is  true  they  have  not  the  dignity  that  belongs  to 
the  character  of  Mrs.  Giles :  hut  it  must  he  re¬ 
membered  that  they  formed  a  connecting  link  in 
the  associations  of  other  days ;  and  that  to  have 
passed  them  by  unnoticed,  would  have  left  a 
hiatus  in  the  page  of  personal  history,  which  no 
effort  of  the  imagination  could  hereafter  have 
filled.  Besides,  they  were  old  acquaintances  of 
mine,  —  with  the  one,  I  had  been  amused  in  the 
town,  with  the  other,  I  had  gathered  fruits  and 
flowers  in  the  field ;  and  seeing  them  upon  the  ve¬ 
ry  verge  of  oblivion,  passing  as  it  were  unheeded 
from  the  memory  of  man,  I  was  hound  by  every 
Christian  principle  to  make  at  least  one  effort  for 
for  their  rescue.  Not  to  have  done  so,  would  have 
been  unkind,  uncourteous,  and  even  ungrateful. 

Though  the  stores  of  memory  are  not  yet  ex¬ 
hausted,  the  time  and  patience  of  the  reader  pro¬ 
bably  are.  Yet  were  I  to  close  these  reminiscen¬ 
ces  of  my  native  town,  with  this  account  of  its 
vagrants,  lunatics  and  loafers,  it  might  possibly 
leave  an  impression  unfavorable  to  the  general 
character  of  its  population.  I  shall  therefore,  as 
a  peace-offering  to  the  pride  of  the  city,  and  as 
an  offset  to  the  history  of  its  Jemmy  Frazers  and 
Copper  Johns,  introduce  to  the  reader  another, 
and  a  very  different  class  of  citizens. 


74  RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS. 


STATESMEN,  JURISTS,  &c. 

Among  the  residents  of  Hudson,  in  its  palmier 
days,  were  Ambrose  Spencer,  Elisha  Williams, 
AVilliam  W.  Van  Ness,  and  Martin  Van  Buren — 
men  who  were  alike  distinguished  for  their  social 
virtues,  their  political  eminence,  and  professional 
ability;  men  whose  names  are  connected  with 
the  growth  and  the  greatness  of  the  state ;  with 
the  history  of  its  forensic  and  parliamentary  elo¬ 
quence,  its  judicial  reputation  and  intellectual 
character.  Many  others  might  be  named  of  equal 
respectability,  though  less  distinguished  in  an  of¬ 
ficial  or  public  point  of  view. 

In  this  connection,  and  second  only  to  the  vet¬ 
erans  of  the  elder  school,  are  to  be  classed  (as 
professionally  educated  in  Hudson)  the  names  of 
Monell,  of  Betts,  of  Edmonds,  and  of  Jordan  — 
names  highly  creditable  to  the  city,  the  bench, 
and  the  bar. 


ELISHA  JENKINS. 

This  gentleman  was  the  most  distinguished 
member  of  the  once  numerous  and  wealthy  fami¬ 
ly  whose  name  is  inseparably  connected  with  the 
early  history  of  the  city.  Though  liberally  edu¬ 
cated,  his  turn  of  mind  led  him  to  mercantile 


RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS.  75 

rather  than  to  professional  pursuits :  and  he  be¬ 
came  a  leading  partner  in  the  well-known  house 
of  “Thomas  Jenkins  &  Sons.”  Retiring  from 
business  with  a  competent  fortune,  he  took  an 
active  part  in  the  political  contest  that  brought 
Mr.  Jefferson  into  power.  Shortly  after  that  event, 
he  removed  from  Hudson  to  Albany,  where  he  re¬ 
ceived  the  appointment  of  comptroller,  and  sub¬ 
sequently  that  of  secretary  of  state.  He  was  a 
man  of  excellent  sense  and  sound  judgment :  and 
carried  with  him  into  public  life,  amenity  of  man¬ 
ners,  strict  integrity,  and  business  habits.  Ho 
was  an  accomplished  merchant,  an  upright  and 
intelligent  public  officer,  a  liberal  minded  politi¬ 
cian,  and  a  perfect  gentleman  in  every  walk  of 
life. 

Among  the  able  and  influential  men  of  the 
county,  though  not  residents  of  the  city,  I  may 
he  permitted  to  mention  the  names  of  John  C. 
Hogeboom  and  William  P.  Van  Ness.  In  strong 
native  talent,  in  penetration  of  mind,  in  clearness 
of  perception  and  justness  of  judgment,  no  man 
in  the  county  was  superior  to  Mr.  Hogeboom ;  nor 
was  the  sterling  integrity  and  manliness  of  his 
character  less  conspicuous. 

In  Mr.  Van  Ness,  (afterwards  judge  of  the  U. 
S.  District  Court)  were  united  the  accomplish- 


76  RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS. 

merits  of  the  gentleman  and  the  scholar.  His 
talents  were  of  the  highest  order.  Of  his  abilities 
as  a  writer,  and  of  the  bitterness  of  his  political 
enmities,  his  famous  pamphlet  under  the  signa¬ 
ture  of  Aristides,  hears  ample  testimony.  His 
sincerity  as  a  friend  has  been  sometimes,  but  I 
think  unjustly  doubted — the  uncompromising  stea¬ 
diness  of  his  enmity,  was,  I  believe,  never  called 
in  question.  These  gentlemen  were  among  the 
earliest  friends  of  Mr.  Van  Buren,  who,  (in  1808) 
had  already  acquired  a  respectable  standing  at 
the  bar,  and  was  then  just  commencing  his  patriot 
career,  with  his  aspiring  foot,  cautiously  but  sig¬ 
nificantly  planted  upon  the  first  round  of  the  po¬ 
litical  ladder. 

Professional  eminence,  and  the  alluring  office 
of  Attorney-General,  were  as  yet  the  highest  ob¬ 
jects  to  which  his  ambitious  eye  was  directed. 
He  had  already  successfully  measured  his  strength 
with  his  great  antagonists  at  the  bar,  and  without 
losing  any  portion  of  his  respect  for  their  abilities, 
very  justly  acquired  more  confidence  in  his  own. 
At  a  subsequent  period  —  but  we  have  not  the 
space,  nor  is  this  the  fitting  occasion,  for  an  his¬ 
torical  portrait  of  one  so  politically  eminent,  so 
highly  gifted,  so  widely  renowned,  and  yet  so  va¬ 
riously  estimated.  The  theme,  however  tempt- 


RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS.  77 

ing,  is,  we  repeat,  too  broad  for  our  present  can¬ 
vass.  We  shall,  therefore,  in  relation  to  this  dis¬ 
tinguished  personage,  hold,  (as  in  honor  hound,) 
our  humble  recollections  in  reserve :  and  doffing 
our  cap  to  “  His  Excellency,”  respectfully  beg  per¬ 
mission  to  pass  quietly  on,  to  ground  less  debate- 
able,  and  to  reminiscences  of  a  less  hazardous 
nature. 

Among  the  number  of  her  native  born  citizens, 
Hudson  may  point  with  pride  to  many  who  have 
risen  to  distinction  by  their  own  merits,  unaided, 
either  by  the  advantages  of  wealth  or  the  patron¬ 
age  of  power.  On  this  list,  among  others,  will  be 
found  the  names  of  William  J.  Worth  and  Wil¬ 
liam  H.  Allen.  The  former,  by  the  force  of  native 
genius,  raised  himself  to  rank  and  eminence  in  the 
army,  and  by  his  courage,  capacity  and  skill,  has 
earned  a  reputation  which  would  reflect  a  lustre 
upon  the  proudest  city  in  the  union.  The  latter, 
devoted  his  life  to  the  service  of  his  country,  and 
by  his  gallantry  upon  the  ocean  won  an  impe¬ 
rishable  name. 

I  might  with  justice,  did  not  delicacy  forbid, 
inscribe  upon  the  same  list,  the  name  of  another 
of  her  heroic  sons,  —  I  might  speak  of  one,  whose 
career  upon  the  ocean,  like  that  of  Lieut.  Allen, 
was  closed  by  an  untimely  death ;  whose  fortune 


78  RANDOM  RECOLLECTIONS. 

allowed  him  but  one  chance  for  fame,  hut  who 
nobly  availed  himself  of  that  one,  and  with  his 
gallant  companions  in  arms,  fought  for  the  honor 
of  the  American  flag,  in  the  harbor  of  Eayal,  one 
of  the  most  desperate,  and  to  the  enemy,  (num¬ 
bers  considered,)  one  of  the  bloodiest  battles  of 
the  war  of  1812. 


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